Dreams are More Precious Than Gold

I’m listening to Enya’s song Dreams are More Precious Than Gold, and I could not agree more. I love her music and have ever since my high school band teacher gave me one of her tapes (yes, cassette tape) in high school. I don’t know why he gave it to me. He just said he thought I’d like her music. I loved it, and I still do. It’s ethereal nature makes me calm, takes me back to high school in an instant, and makes me feel happy. It’s a good thing.

We often get caught up in the day to day crap. And that’s all that a lot of it is – crap. It’s not worth our time and efforts, but it occurs anyway. I guess it’s all about your reaction to the crap that helps you get through the day. Some days, I’m much better at this than other days. Today was a good day. We were getting new furniture in our office to make it more user-friendly, while at the same time recycling the furniture we had for another group who will be moving all together into one space. It is also good for everyone involved. I worked off of a table most of the afternoon, as they had already removed my desk and taken it to storage, ready for the next owner. I had my goodbyes with my desk. He and I had been together for more than 8 years. I have laughed, rolled my eyes, screamed, and cried with him by my side. That desk has seen me through the death of a marriage and the suicide of an employee. I’ve hidden under it so that someone would not know I was in my office. It, probably more than anyone with whom I work, has heard my private thoughts during stressful times. It was there when my Dad found out he had Parkinson’s. It was there when my friend discovered he had brain cancer. It was there to welcome and congratulate me the morning after my husband asked me to marry him. It was there when my Grandmother died.

I think if it had had a voice, it would have a few things to say.

It’s also heard my dreams. My glorious dreams of traveling Europe in a bus or via train; of my dream to get another puppy after such a long time; and of my dream of law school (it held the countdown calendar to the first day of school as well as the 100 day at a time calendar this past year as I count the time down until graduation). It’s been spilled on, sat on, stood on, and it’s had its drawers slammed shut a few times. I think it got me back for the last once by slamming my finger in the drawer as it shut.

My thoughts this evening are that dreams truly are more precious than gold. Gold is not hard to find – go to your local pawn shop and you can see as much as you like. But dreams, there is something that doesn’t ever go away. Remember that dream you had when you were a kid? The one where you were going to grow up and be a farmer like your Dad, an astronaut like John Glenn, or a teacher like your favorite elementary school teacher, Mrs. Whiley? Yes, those dreams are still there somewhere. You may have decided that those dreams needed to change or were not that important, perhaps because you thought of something else that was more important – new dreams taking the place of old dreams.

There is a song we sang at Girl Scout camp – “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, and the other gold.” It’s the same with dreams. As Nixon was reported to have said, “Never, ever, ever give up.”

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