I have this hope in my heart and soul that one day; I will make it to Stonehenge on my birthday. My birthday happens to coincide with the Pagan summer solstice and is the longest day of the year. My Aunt and I have talked about going since I can remember, and each time we have an hour-long phone conversation, it comes up. My Aunt and I share a very special connection. It’s a connection that I hope every person on this planet has, or has had, at some point. And in that connection, this hope and dream to see an Ancient wonder was born. But this post isn’t about Stonehenge or my Aunt (although I love her!). It’s about the aspirations Stonehenge and my Aunt has given me.
I have other aspirations like becoming a PhD, being able to speak fluently as a Pirate, being the best mother I know how to be, appreciating what I have while I have it, having a better relationship with my family, getting out of debt, and jumping out of a perfectly good airplane. I aspire to incorporate all of these things in to my life. In brutal honest truth, these things will probably not happen. And here’s why: One month I’m dead set on finishing homework ahead of time, and another I’m obsessed with lifting a heavier weight in Crossfit. The next, I have my nose buried in a book about a Guru. The month after that, I’m worried about a torn meniscus. Those aspirations that truly are so dear to me fall behind the pale misty curtain of the present. And in the present, you attempt to finish all the things that are pulling you away from your hopes and dreams. This way, once it’s all done, you can live the life you’re hoping to live. The thought process is: If I finish my degree, I can sky dive. If I just get this paper turned in, I can play with my daughter. Once I wash all these dishes piled in the sink, I can have an actual conversation with my husband.
While I’m paying very close attention to living within the confines of a black and white job, ensuring all my black and white homework is turned in on time, all my black and white deadlines are met, and all the black and white dishes are clean, the colors of what is important decide that they will come in with a roar of raw emotion. It’s quite true that what you burry inside yourself will find a way out. My emotions, hopes, and aspirations find their escape by riding in on dreams of death and destruction and color my life with tears that come out of nowhere. I’ll notice the red when I speak too sharply to my daughter. I see the blue when all of my overworking and obsessive behaviors have pushed my husband to a corner, alone. When I see those colors show up so sharply, something happens to the box of aspirations I’ve hidden among the dust and cobwebs of my mind. The top of the box in which they are in flies open and pours out into me in a way that is reviving. They bring the color back in to my life and remind me of what is truly important. The present moment is not about the next deadline but about the feeling of hope that is suspended in time. That feeling of life that exhilarates you to the point of breathlessness. That whoosh in the blood that makes your head light. That ants-in-the-pants feeling that gets you out of your office chair and on to your dancing feet.
We all have those hopes and dreams that got squandered and squashed somewhere along the path of life. I used to want to be Madonna. I used to want to study geology. I used to want to live on love and cereal. Those aspirations did not come true, and they never will. And you know? That’s ok. They guided me toward something at the time I needed them most. I wanted to be Madonna so I would be seen. The mere thought of traveling the world and touching the very essence of what we are made of – the earth and stone under our feet – helped me understand the fabric of what I was made of. And let’s face it: Love and cereal both taste pretty damn good.
I will always aspire to see Stonehenge and take a trip with my dearest Aunt. I still aspire to hear the words “Dr. Pertain.” I still aspire to hear the deafening sound of the wind in my ears as I have a moment of falling freely to the earth. And at some point, I hope to be able to curse you filthy curs in true pirate dialect without a second thought. And though I admittedly try, with all my might, to be the best mother in the world, there is no way I can ever be the mother my magical daughter deserves. So while my aspirations may never come to fruition, they remind me of what life is really all about. Color. Hope. Joy. And the belief that regardless of your daily grind, seeing the sun set at 9pm on an ancient burial ground the day you became part of the earth is always a possibility.