There's nothing like a perfect day here in Portland to start my mind thinking. I'm up here for my brother's wedding. The sky is blue and the weather is beautiful. The sun is bright but not hot on the 8' tall sunflowers that frame the driveway.
Driving around Hawthorne I am looking at the many houses. It's been described as "hippies with money". That's a good description. I've thought about moving here. And there is a plan in the back of my mind that brings me north in a couple years.
But some plans are not really plans, they are instead dreams I know will change and fail their fruition. That's OK. It's still fun to dream them. Doors open and possibilities wink themselves into existence in a moment. And then, the possibility closes and another dream enjoyed it's kernel of possibility before melting into a sea of potential, only to rise again.
I can tell the difference between these two types of plans. The dreams that will manifest and the ones that are mere masturbation. Non-realities of this reality. Still, sometimes it's hard to taste the difference in the moment, when you're wrapped up in their greasy hamburger paper and the special sauce tastes so good and the universe gives you a fine day to dream it in.
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