Posted by Kelli Joan Bennett
Day 176. I decide to go for an extra long walk. I’m up to two walks a day—one in the am and one in the pm. I missed both yesterday. Donning a seriously large straw hat and my prized fanny pack that was given to me by Joie de vivre I think like 19 years ago—it had been her mother’s before she passed and I always think of her when I have it on…I probably shouldn’t admit this but Jessica visits me in my dreams usually about once a year, and, I believe, she guards me from the judgmental and negative stares I receive while wearing her fanny pack…hopefully, she throws in some protection from the judging of the hat for good measure—I set out. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, people are out in groves walking their dogs. It’s a glorious day. I call “She’s a bit touched if you know what I mean” friend to say “thank you” for the package of screenwriting tips she sent me. God knows I need them! I’m so behind on my script. But I’ll save that story for another day. “She’s a bit touched if you know what I mean” Friend doesn’t answer. I leave a voice mail. “I miss her,” I think. I’ve got to get back to NYC.
I’m overly excited on my walk because, before I left, I tucked the keys to the post office box in the aforementioned fanny pack. Oh yeah, that’s right. I haven’t checked the box for, I think, a couple weeks. I’m chomping at the bit. I wait so long because I simply can’t stand it when there are no dreams in there! I live for seeing dreams in my PO Box! As I walk, I daydream of the box being stuffed full to the top with dreams. Maybe I’ll get ten new dreams, I dreamily think. I quickly say out loud, “Kel, calm down, there might not be any in there!” Last time I checked, there wasn’t. Sad face. “You’re right,” I answer myself back. The two dogs I pass as I talk to myself give me a wonky head turn. Don’t judge me, I mentally stare back to them. I try to contain the talking to myself out loud the rest of the walk.
I must control my expectations because I know it’s true. The PO Box might be dreamless. The simple reality is that declaring a dream takes time. There are three new dream boxes going out next week in Connecticut, so that’s exciting. I’ve also mailed the postcards to a couple friends and given them out to friends as I see them. I know none of them have declared their dreams yet because every time I see them I ask them if they have. Don’t judge me like the dogs did! They’re my closest friends. I can badger them about declaring their dreams if I want to! The dreams that have come in already must be from the dream boxes that are out in Missouri and Colorado. But as “She’s a little bit touched if you know what I mean” Friend said to me the other day, “even if someone takes the card and never sends it in but it inspires and motivates them to act on their dream, that’s what really matters.” So true.
I hear crickets. It takes me a moment to realize my cell phone’s ringer must be on. It’s the director of Homecoming calling. “Hey, you’re in luck, my cell phone was on!” I inform him. Like I’m such a prize to get to talk to? That’s a little egomaniacal. I need to work on that. He’s calling to tell me the screening of his cut of the film is canceled tonight because it’s taking forever to burn the film to Blu-ray. Bummer. I was excited to see the whole film cut together. No problem. Next week. I continue on past the park to Teasely. Teasley. Teasely is a monster of a street—yes, it’s just a street although it’s not really just a street, it’s a mountain. I say it with an English accent, “Teeeeeeeasley” as I begin climbing. Not sure why. Somehow it helps.
I survive Teasely and make my way down to Foothill where I pass a Dunkin’ Donuts. I temporarily forget I’m cleansing. Did I tell you I’m on a cleanse? Getting healthy, people, getting healthy! The smell of glazed rings of goodness almost draws me into the house of sugar and lard destroying my cleansing efforts. I resist. The potential of receiving dreams keeps me on track. As I approach the post office, I remind myself that it might be empty. Actually, it’s probably empty. It’s definitely empty. By the time I’m opening the double doors to mail carrier city, I pretend I’m convinced it’s going to be empty but secretly hope it’s not. I walk through the lobby over to box 12087. I insert the key, turn it, take a deep breath and open the small door. Thank god for the lowering of expectations because I am over the moon to see one new dream has arrived! That visual moment never ceases to thrill. It’s under the same American Express bill addressed to the guy named John something! I guess when I slipped it back in the mail slot they just rerouted it right back to my PO Box. Crazy. I pull out the familiar Amex bill, tuck it under my arm, then reverently and gently pull out the dream. I turn it over. I begin to read. Wow. My body goes still. This dream is intense. I lose myself in it. About half way through reading the dream, an, “Excuse me,” pulls me out of my dream trance. An old man in khakis and a baseball cap is apparently trying to get to his PO Box that I’m blocking. “Sorry, sorry,” I mutter as I clear his path. I continue reading the rest of the dream by the packing station.
This new dream is a serious dream from a serious Dreamer. It makes me realize that dreams come in all sizes, shapes and forms from simple to complex, from light-hearted to serious, from life to death. And they are all special, important, viable dreams. That is the magic and beauty of this Experimental Motivation Project. The seriousness and intensity of this new dream settles into my bones. I can’t control myself—I start to cry as I drop John Something’s Amex bill back in the mail slot. I don’t care who hears me. I say out loud to this new Dreamer, “Welcome. I’m here for you. I believe in you and your dream.” I leave the post office a little light headed from the deep thoughts rushing to me. As I walk home, I pray for the Dreamer and that their dream continues to come true. The depth of this new dream makes me ponder my own struggles, my own challenges—small, large and in between—what has stopped me and what continues to stop me from fulfilling all of my dreams and living up to my divine potential. Good stuff to ponder. Before stepping into my house, I give thanks for the gift of this new Dreamer and their dream.
Oh, I still can’t make out the postmark! Complete and total anonymity continues to reign! There is an Aloha stamp on it but I don’t think any postcards have been sent to Hawaii. OH BUT wait! I did put some postcards in the seat pockets of all the planes I’ve been on lately, so who knows?!? Maybe the cards made it into someone’s hands in the Aloha state. How awesome would that be?
So, consider this your weekly badger, my dear friends and family—DECLARE YOUR DREAMS! It’s magical. It’s serious. It’s changing my life for the better—one dream at a time.
To see the latest dreams, visit: www.SeeADream.com
Until tomorrow, create from what you have…serious dreams.