About three or four days ago, Phoebe commented that this trip was not like the other ones, in that we didn't have a clear theme. I reminded her that this one was about dreams, and she said she knew that, but that dreams are not really a theme like The Oregon Trail is a theme, or Paleontology and Geology are a theme. She was, and is, of course, right. On this trip, we don't have a goal every day of doing something within our theme, something that ties all experiences together.
Except that we do.
I am still working on explaining that. To her. To me. To you.
Dreams are about listening. They are about what we think of when we don't know we're thinking. They are about what we are told--sometimes obliquely, sometimes blatantly--whether we choose it or not. They are about what we can learn, if we listen to what comes. At least that's what they are to me.
Last night, we went to see Eat Pray Love at the charming Portage Theater in Portage, Wisconsin (where, by the way, they sell hot mini chocolate chip cookies in paper cups at the snack counter. Just sayin'.)
It was the first real "grown up" film that Phoebe has been to, and a pretty long one, which in moments equaled boring, but mostly she got it. Her primary thought after leaving the movie is that she very much wants to go to Italy to eat the food there. I love it that she holds that as possible, even likely. I, of course, loved it. Oh, sure, it had its faults (I'm bugged by the clothes thing for one, but we'll tawk if and when you see it). I don't care. I don't care in the same way that I am perplexed by the insistence of so many people, in fact darn near everyone, that Field of Dreams is a baseball movie, and the lasting appeal of the film is due to America's love affair with baseball. I mean, it's not like I haven't noticed that it's got a strong baseball theme. But the insistence thing is confusing. And tiring. Here are the things I think the movie is about: Listening to the Voice(s), paying attention, honoring yourself, following your dreams, creating, following a muse, doing what you know is right--what you are pulled inexorably to do--whether it seems crazy or not and whether everyone makes fun of you or not, forgiveness, healing, and okay, sentimentality (I love sentimentality). Right. The same things that Eat Pray Love is about. Right. The same thing that our road trips are about. Which pretty much explains why I got teary when I saw the "Welcome to Dyersville" sign this afternoon.
This is a trip of listening. As they have all been. Except this one is more open-ended, allowing it to be heavier on the listening and lighter on the "make it fit". Beautiful.
So let me tell you what happened today. Let's just call it Convergence.
We were driving through southern Wisconsin and into northeastern Iowa....I'm not quite sure exactly where we were, but I do know it was after the torrential thunderstorm which, blessedly, didn't last too long. I think it was somewhere around Elgin, but I'm not sure. The sky had lightened and it was difficult to miss the bright yellow "burma shave" type signs along the side of the road. Here is what they said:
In the interest of full disclosure, there was a sixth sign that made it clear that these were in fact an advertisement for large corn maze ("maize maze", I love that). Once again, as ever....I don't care. Just like I don't care that Field of Dreams is about baseball. I saw them. I read them. I felt blessed, I felt seen, I felt like someone somewhere out there gets this life that we're leading for these two plus weeks, even if it is sometimes deep, infrequently serious, occasionally aimless, and sometimes just downright goofy.
Yes, it's a sturgeon. Yes, it has a saddle.
(above photo taken today in Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin, which, just so's you know, is pronounced "Prairie doo sheen"....oy, Americans.....which even still sounds kinda cool as a French kinda name until you realize that it means Prairie of the Dogs, or at least it does when the French words are pronounced like, say, they're actually French. I thought it referred to those little cute(ish) animals that pop their heads up out of the ground, but apparently not. See how much you can learn on these trips?)
The second point of convergence was just too overwhelming, even for me, and I'm deep into this dream theme, even if no one else can figure out exactly what I mean. I know what I mean. I took a few moments tonight to check my facebook stuff, see what folks are up to, claim my sappiness, you know....and I see a notice for the new show on P.O.V. (fabulous show) that is premiering in a few days.
(let us pause for a moment to pay homage to technology, by whose grace I can program my tivo to record the show in my home in Massachusetts even while I roam the dog prairie. All hail!)
Just in case you don't know about it, the upcoming film (showing on Aug. 24) is called The Edge of Dreaming. I could barely speak when I heard what it was about, which, best as I can gauge without seeing it yet, seems to be exploring the edge between science and dreams, between clairvoyance and coincidence, between fear and fate.
There are questions to be answered on this trip. We're listening.
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