First we dreamed.

Mainfested dreams. [Clean.]


Mainfested dreams. [Clean.]

Mainfested dreams. [Clean.]

Mainfested dreams. [Clean.]

Manifested dreams. [Clean.]

Mainfested dreams. [Clean.]

The children and I returned from their week away, my half-week away, visiting my parents. We rolled in close to dinner time, road-weary and a tiny bit cranky. (Okay, only I was a little cranky.)

We checked in on chickens and cats and sheep and dogs and then set to unloading the car as Pete cooked dinner.

Lupine looked down over the garden and paused.

"Mama, I need to see what's happening in the garden. With you."

I declined.

There was work to do.

And I watched, an armload of detritus from the backseat in my arms, as she put on her boots and walked down into the garden to check on the tomatoes and kale, zucchini and beans.

What am I doing?

I emptied my arms and headed through the gate to find her.

We stood there in the fading light picking cherry tomatoes and eyeing cauliflower for another day, our shirts loaded with veggies like distended cloth shopping bags.

I looked out over the cut hay, the sheep, the bee hive, and the veggies. The light was the amber it can only be at dusk in August, and tiny insects like fairies sparkled and swirled about us.

Standing there, beside my girl, I felt my heart might burst.

And I kissed her on the head and said,

"Last year (and the many years before) this was our dream. We imagined this.

Everything we can see. It was what we were wanting.

It was our 'someday.'

And now it's our life."

And she smiled and I smiled and we crammed more tomatoes into our gathered shirts and laughing mouths.

 

And then I remembered writing this. Three years ago. (Look at that little Lu behind those blossoms!)

And while no, not everything we laid out is solid quite yet, so very much is.

We chose this.

And while the journey here was not without heartbreak, we never stopped believing in this dream.

We wrote this story and then closed our eyes and leapt across the void and into this life.

 

Love,

Rachel

 

24 thoughts on “First we dreamed.”

  4. Karen C says:
    Reply

    Your story is amazing and an inspiration for us all to begin (or continue) our own manifestations. I recently made a vision board, and I know I will have it all one of these days. 🙂

  6. Hope says:
    Reply

    I am so very happy for you. We have our little farm as well and we too imagined and dreamed of this life. We feel so very blessed.

    You continue to inspire me.

  9. Sharilyn says:
    Reply

    Oh my! This is so timely for me! I blogged about dreams today- I’m trying do hard to follow mine- short term & longer term! My dreams look a great deal like yours- so simple yet so difficult to grasp! Thank you for being such an inspiration!

  11. Corrabelle says:
    Reply

    I’m so happy that you’ve found where you belong…what bliss.
    We too dream of getting away from the city and on to our own bit of land. It’s not in the immediate future, but soon. My heart aches for quiet.

  22. Dulce says:
    Reply

    I really enjoyed reading this post up because right now I’m at the stage of dreaming of a life project that I really want to materialize in the near future and as Walt Disney said “If you can dream it you can make it!”
    Um abraço de Portugal 🙂
    Dulce

  23. renee @ FIMBY says:
    Reply

    So what’s the next dream? (smile) Please do share!

    What I love about being a long time Clean reader is that I’ve read and shared your disappointments over the years in making this dream reality. It’s not been 1. Dream 2. Reality. It’s been dream, work, dream more, try something, heartbreak, don’t stop believing, new opportunity, could this really be it… reality. Over the course of years, not weeks or months. Years.

    Making dreams come true is the stuff of life and thank you for sharing and dreaming with us. For inspiring us.

    From a fellow dream-liver (not the organ).

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