Dream Beams

I sit and take in the view. However common, any beach is still a sight to behold. 

I decide to rest and lie back at our cabana. The sun hasn’t shown its face all day, making the beach dreary. The salt wind is strong, blowing the white curtains against their will. The waves are crashing rhythmically, lulling me in and out of sleep.

The pace has been slow today – nature does that to you. But the stories seem to be exchanged very quickly and to the verge of saturation, like a crazy torrent download. It’s as if we’re craving for something that reminds us of our life in the city instead of escaping to this sleepy world.

I try to absorb everything that’s being said. But part of me wants to leave it as it is – have it carried by the wind or swept by the sea, I don’t care. My mind starts to wander from the conversations to strange ideas and seldom-touched memories. They are hazy like the events of today, but come to life as quickly and as clearly as I think of them.

In a place like this, thoughts and feelings are left unguarded – as if the huge expanse of space can absorb them all. And so I indulge in what-could-have-beens and what-might-bes. I send out crazy dreams to the hiding sun and the vast sea. Never mind practicality, never mind logic, never mind the consequences. Today I let my guard down and indulge in the giddy, passionate, and even ridiculous thoughts.

I send out more dream beams when I finally fall asleep for the night. The waves and the rocks absorb them all. I feel invincible.

~

The same thoughts buzz through my head as we head out to the city the following day. We whiz along the highway and the trees are a blurry sight. As if on cue, a small voice reminds me that I should keep my mind in check – we are going back to the city after all.

And so I try to keep busy and shut my mind, like what I’ve been doing for ages. The concrete of the city brings back the consequences and shows me its harsh realities. It is easy to be busy and lose touch of dreams. There is so much happening that it hurts to keep the pace.

I wear my sunglasses and become a city mouse once again. Sipping my coffee and cursing at bad drivers, I return to the fast-paced life – all along afraid of my own thoughts. Afraid of how they’d make me feel when I think of them. Afraid that the concrete will not absorb them, but send them back to me at full speed.



© Isabel M. Casas, 20101201