Monday, March 8, 2010

Recurring Dream

I don't always remember my dreams and I don't know that I even dream every night, but I do have one recurring dream. 

It's always different, but it's always the same, if you know what I mean.  I find myself in the auditorium at my old high school.  Usually I'm hanging around the chairs in the back of the auditorium.  My friends are there.  They are ready for auditions.  I am not.  But I'm not worried about not being ready because I'm not trying out for the show.  I ask them which play it will be this time.  They do their best to talk me into auditioning.  It is then that I remember that I'm in college (when I was in college) and that I don't live there anymore and that I just don't perform anymore.  And then I always find myself wishing that I could audition for the show or help out in some way or somehow be a part of that society I belonged to for so long and now have nothing to do with. 

Then the dream ends.  And I wake up.  And I'm a mother and a wife and not in high school anymore.  I haven't been in high school for six years.  But that is the dream I have the most.


I was thinking about that tonight as I drove home.  I had dropped my sister off and was driving home and a song came on the radio.  Whenever I hear this song it always happens; dance choreography plays out in my mind.  I see perfect pirouettes.  And hip hop.  Of course I could never perform this dance myself.  I'm far too out of practice and out of shape.  But it would be fun to choreograph it for real dancers.  It would be fun to watch.  But I'm such a novice.  I highly doubt I will be asked to guest choreograph a dance anytime soon.


I wonder when it was in my life that I started telling myself that I needed to be invisible to be humble.  It's not conceited to perform and live a little in the limelight--it's conceited to be conceited.


I live a small life.  I play at home with my daughter, go on walks with my friend, sometimes sew, play Yahtzee with my husband at dinner, and drive to the store in my gold sedan.  I tell myself I can't do big things.  I tell myself I am small. 


Perhaps I'm not as small as I tell myself to be.  Perhaps I should be me more.

6 comments:

alee said...

It is just too ironic that the title of the next post (if you just keep reading down the screen) is titled "I'm famous! (again). Hahaha!

Richard and Emily said...

I think you would do a great job choreographing a dance!

Speaking of which, remember when I had to do that (and it was oh so not amazing) for my dance class and I had you and Marae and R dance around the parking lot? Makes me laugh everytime I think about it!

And I think you can do great things. :) And to me and many others, you're not small.

my name is lauren. said...

be brave katie. you are a beautiful, talented woman... don't sell yourself short! plus....when you sell yourself short, you're denying the awesome gifts God's blessed you with. don't be afraid to use them! love you friend!

Hillary said...

Ah yes. I can relate. But you are right! Share what you have, because God gave it to you.

Lisa Lou said...

you are a lone reed.

Kathy Haynie said...

Becoming a mom brings up lots of identity questions. So does becoming a grandma. I'm still trying to figure out a lot of these things. I think we signed on for that when we came here. Thank you for such a thoughtful post. I've been thinking something along these lines lately, but I would have put it into cranky-pants terms. Yours is so much nicer. You are on the right track! I don't think you live a small life, but a focused one. Love you Katie!