dream...

Suspended silently as it was, over a bustling city street, I almost didn’t see this ‘dream’.

Yes, it was written in big yellow letters.
And it occupied the largest window in the building.
So, clearly, someone wanted it to be seen.

But there were still so many other windows and sounds and signs diverting attention all around it, that it was hardly visible… A dream that went almost unnoticed.

So what about your dreams?
Where do you store them? (Behind glass, like this one?)

Are they visible in some way, so others who may want to be a part of them (and maybe even help them to become a reality) can see them and be inspired?

Or perhaps they’re surrounded by the clutter of other more mundane demands – crowded out by your other to do lists…

What could help your dreams to stand out more clearly? (Both to you and maybe even to others, too)

Or is it easier to hide them away, so there’s next to no risk of them coming to life?

Sometimes it can seem easier to keep these things secret; to hold them close to our chests or close to our hearts. To indulge in a little private escape when we ‘visit’ them. And to keep them alive in our imaginations for that purpose only.

But what might it mean to dare to bring your dreams a little closer to your life, so they can walk alongside you, instead of being suspended off the ground alone, like the one in the photo?

What might you and your dream achieve together if you were allowed to acknowledge each other more? To support each other more?

And how might it change the quality of your everyday if your dream was more than just an escape-hatch for you, but if it could open up into a whole new way of living (from which you might want less escape anyway).

It seems like something worth dreaming about…

Photo & text (c) Gabrielle Gawne-Kelnar 2010

Fill-in the blank...

It was just after attending a workshop with Naomi Wolf at the ‘Happiness & its Causes’ conference, that this blank ad-space caught my eye, as it lit up the evening.

The day had been spent investigating the big, often secret dreams we might hold within us and perhaps hide from the world (and even from our selves) under piles of doubt and anxiety. Dreams about family, about finding fulfilling work, about ways we might vibrantly contribute to this planet and the places we call home.

The idea was to get to know our own dream a little better. To get in touch with what a passion or so-called “mission” of ours might be – something that makes the “joy levels ratchet-up,” as Naomi put it – and then to project forward five years and imagine what it could look like by then (assuming that all things are possible).
To visualise yourself engaged in that dream.
In 2015.
Living it.

Ultimately, it was about getting as clear as possible about all of the details of the dream, and then finding a way of “setting an intention” about it. Packaging the dream in a way that made it clear to ourselves, and in a way that we could share it with others if we wanted to.
(Which is all so different than the endless, futile ‘wishing’ in the previous blog post, because this stuff was connected to action. To taking your dream, and therefore yourself, seriously).

And this is where the blank ad seems to come in…

If you think about a dream of your own – whether it be about the kind of family relationships you’d like to nurture, the kind of meaningful work you’d like to be engaged in, or other creative ways of living you’d like to explore – how might you represent it?
(Both to yourself and to others?)

What would it look like?
What colours and textures and images might you use to capture it?
How could you describe it?

And what support might you need for it? (relational, educational, financial?)
How might you ask for what you need to help get your dream off the ground? (Maybe some cooperation from others; maybe permission from yourself?)

If you were to design a billboard celebrating your dream, what sorts of things would you include? Are there any aspects of your current life that you might leave out?

In fact, if this blank, glowing ad in the photo above was yours to inhabit – to project your dream into the evening light – what might you put on it?

And what would that tell you about the next step you might take towards that dream?

And which parts of you might that light-up?
.
.
(c) Gabrielle Gawne-Kelnar 2010

Interior garden...

Recently, I wandered into a nursery, hoping to find a pot plant for my therapy room – something fairly hardy that can handle low lighting, changeable weather and occasional heartache.

Having found a likely looking candidate, I wanted to know a bit more about it.

‘Excuse me, will this plant grow very tall or will it stay fairly compact?’ I asked the gardener.

She turned and paused for a moment.

‘It’s limited by the size of the pot.’

I’m not sure if it was the way she said it, but somehow this statement seemed to mean a whole lot more than just plant sizes.

It started me wondering…

So what about your own ‘pot’?
How large a pot will you need for the kind of life you'd like?
What sized pot are you in now?
How might you like to grow?
Are there any areas you might like to prune?

Have you become stuck somehow, ‘root bound’ perhaps, in a situation where you feel you can’t live healthily anymore?
What might it take to un-bind you?
What could transplanting look like?

And what sized container do you tend to plant your dreams or expectations in? How much nourishment do you give them?
(... and yourself?)

In a way, therapy is all about looking into these kinds of questions about your life.

And it can be a way of becoming your own gardener...

(c) Gabrielle Gawne-Kelnar 2010