Justin and I talk about dreams a lot--the fluffy, unrealized ones we have for our futures, the vivid ones
experienced during the night, the dreamy (or sometimes, less dreamy) figures he sees during the day. They wrap around us, tangling us in hope and delusion and other worldliness. Our dreams shimmer and sparkle, thud and thunder. Dreams--those tricky incarnations of hope and horror.
Do we dare pull at the threads of what if?
Do we dare take solace in what is?
Hope is suspended somewhere in between.
There's a castle on Commercial Street.
It's home to a dream as castles should be. Oddly, it housed some undreamy manifestations over its 100+ year history: a bank, followed by another bank, and another, followed by an antique store. Lackluster, don't you think? But now it's vault and vaulted ceilings house Chantal Barton and Mikki Trowbridge's dream: Resonance Yoga Studio.
To chaperone a storefront takes not only dreams, but courage and hard work, especially on a thoroughfare like Commercial Street. The jostle of city life is always whirling by threatening to spill in and hold inhabitants hostage. Taking up this kind of space means being bold with a dedication to vision and mastery. I have never ever (never ever? never ever...thank you, Outkast.) in my life witnessed such mastery---a precision in language, a deep understanding of movement, a commitment to history, and a sharpness of vision.
The audacity of intelligent ambition.
The audacity of dreams.
I am grateful for this particular dream realized, as it models that doing good, being of value, and creating belonging (and by extension, it's friend, dignity) is possible and actually needed. This is a safe space to drop pretense and simply be.
Yesterday, I lay under the vaulted ceiling in the final throes of savasana watching tiny green lights dazzle across the ceiling, periodically emulating shooting stars. I allowed myself to wish on each one. I wished for dreams.
Yoga helps me accept what is.
The castle helps me dream what could be.
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