I’m not sure that I ever identified with my femininity enough to imagine, as a child, I was a princess.  Last night I had a dream in which I was dressed in royal gowns.  I stood over an ornate pale blue rug that was soft beneath my bare feet.  There was more to the dream, but absolultely nothing of practical importance – perhaps this is why it stands out.

I dream often, in color and in details I find hard to scope out during the day.  In dreams, we are better able to see ourselves as part of one intricately woven fabric; we are the princess, the blue rug, the softness beneath our feet.  If only in those waking dreams in which we walk unhindered by sleep, we could connect so strongly.  We would be the war, the peace and the thickness of every line between and we might know no difference other than those that make exciting the experience of experiencing.