Last night I dreamt of forgiveness and new beginnings. Of acceptance and moving forward. Of the sadness of regret and the power of possibility.
A girl I once knew smiled at me, as her mother brushed her hair. Then, she was the mother and I felt the pain of loss, of years missed and opportunities not taken. But for all the sadness, I saw a future full of chances.
Dreams. Moments in time, mercurial and shifting, brought into focus while asleep. Yet, vague and haunting in my waking mind, impossible to catch again except in fleeting glimpses, seen but not quite grasped. The dream lost.
I am however unable to shift the image of a daughter and a mother. The same person, yet so very different. Separated by years, the distance of time and place.
Too long, too late perhaps. But a stark reminder of the fragility of friendships, of the importance of care and honesty. Of apology and admission, of responsibility and the realities of decisions and consequences.
As I enter this new year, ready to begin once more; full of hopes and dreams. As I define goals and seek clarity. As I aspire and want and need; and begin to understand the difference, this image gives me pause.
This scene that has been left behind, from a now forgotten dream, is troubling and there is a melancholy to it that I find hard to ignore for all that it has left me feeling hopeful.
I had planned to write of challenges, of starting afresh and with new eyes. Of taking opportunities and building and balancing and embracing; of beginnings.
But, perhaps the message left to me is quite simple; that opportunities are too easily lost and must be held and cherished and nurtured. That we can begin again at any time, and that we must not give power to our regrets.
And that those beginnings are as simple as we allow them to be.
You can find this weeks #ThePrompt linky here. I do hope this week’s prompt inspired you; I look forward to reading your posts.