Dreams of Sicily

From the November 2004 issue of the Unofficial Unorthodoxed Newsletter

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Do you think your dreams are trying to tell you something? I don’t know. I dream quite often and I wonder what dreams really are? Some say it’s your subconscious trying to tell you what’s really going on. Some think it’s just your body pulling together random events and thoughts from your day to make random images as you sleep. Others believe it’s the supernatural, giving you a window into your future.

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Have you ever had one of those dreams where you realize it’s a dream? Those are pretty cool. And there are always the falling dreams and the slow motion dreams and those dreams where you’re trying to call for help, but you can’t say anything. Those suck. Sometimes I dream in movie format and sometimes it’s a cartoon. Sometimes it’s not even images, just feelings and emotions.

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When I was young I had two recurring dreams, both of which were incredibly weird. In one I would swim through a swamp and talk to these two cartoon sharks. When I would get out of the water I was completely green. I don’t know why, but this dream kept me up night after night. I was really scared of turning green.

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The other one was of this dog who had finger handcuffs in his mouth that when you’d put your finger in them it would cut your finger off.

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I had an unusual dream just recently, a very vivid dream of running through the streets of Sicily naked.

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These dreams are all pretty bad, but you’d be surprised at what my worst was. It was about three weeks ago and I still remember every second of it. It was at Drumlin in the parking lot. A misty evening and realistic to every level. The specifics are unimportant, but it was perfect in every way and accurate to every detail. It had everything I could ever want in life and put it within my grasp. I faced fears that in real life I was always too afraid to encounter and I did it in the same way I would if I could. Woven into the dream I found true happiness and cried with joy and praised the Lord out loud for giving me such luck. Not a scary dream at all you might say.

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That morning when I woke up I was satisfied for once in my life. Happy that what needed to be done was finally completed and the repercussions of these actions would continue to radiate happiness for a very long time. I was happy in those blissful moments before truly waking up. And when I woke up I was angry for I realized that it was just a dream.

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Nightmares are not only your fears, but also can be giving everything you’ve ever wanted and then mocking you since you can not have it. Maybe dreams are just one of God’s little mysteries. Maybe it’s better we don’t know what they are. Maybe they’re just little reminders in our everyday life that anything is possible.

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Oh and Sicily is a very nice place to visit and I suggest it for any of your vacations.

The One

From the February 2007 Issue of Focused Press

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There is a scene in West Wing that defines my Public Relations beliefs.

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Josh is working for the Vice President at the time and, on the advice of a friend, goes to see the New Hampshire Governor who is running for President. He is told that the man is “the real deal.”

Josh goes to Sam, a lawyer friend of his, and tells him that he is going to see Governor Bartlett. He asks Sam to come with him, but Sam is at work and can’t.

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Josh asks, “If he’s the real deal do you want me to come and tell you?”

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Sam replies, “You have a poor poker face. If he is the real deal, you won’t have to tell me.”

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At the speech, Josh is stunned by the well spoken Governor, who when asked by a cow farmer about a milk tax that he supported, bluntly said, “Yea… I screwed you on that one” and then continued to explain why he did it.

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Josh rushes back to Sam, who is in a group meeting with rich oil clients. Outside the window, Josh points to his smiling face. Seeing this, Sam stands up and leaves the meeting, quits his job and becomes Deputy Communications Officer for the Governor who eventually becomes President Bartlett.

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It’s that moment in my life, watching that scene in a fictional world play out, that I decided I wanted to go into public relations. I know it sounds bizarre, but it’s the idealism that gives me my passion for the field. It’s the possibility of finding that person or organization that is the “real deal.” When you finally do what you were meant to do and you are representing someone that will make a difference in the world. We are all waiting for one of us to point to our face and smile so that we can find peace in knowing that we are ready for the challenge of our lives.

Love, I Think

From the February 2007 Issue of Focused Press

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As I wait at the bus stop in the dark heading out to pick up the latest Sims Games for my girlfriend, I wonder what love is. Can it be found in a one night stand? Will it reveal itself before our time runs out? Is it forever or fleeting? Very deep questions, I must say, for a bus ride.

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I consider those that I have “loved” in the past. I once had a huge crush on a girl who eventually came out of the closet. Now, I’m dating a girl who I love, despite the fact that she drives me crazy. Love is complicated, but at the same time, it is possibly the thing that focuses the human mind more than anything else. When you’re in love you focus… you know what you want and things, despite the fog, seem clearer.

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Now, I’m not claiming to know what love is. I don’t. And I think very few of us do. What we experience is in fact just glimpses of what love truly is. We experience a fleeting glance or an ache in our heart when separated. We long for another’s embrace. But it’s far from love.

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The other day, for example, I saw true love. My grandmother moved into an old age home about 12 months ago and my grandfather, at the time, still lived at home and visited her on a daily basis. He wasn’t well himself, having had an aneurism years back and having the use of only one of his legs. Two months after she moved into the home my grandfather had a Gout Attack and was brought immediately to the hospital. I remember the first time I visited him there. He was sitting up right in bed, tubes coming from his body, and he turned to my father and asked, “Is Tessie alright?” After fifty years of marriage the first thing that came to mind after a medical emergency, is will my wife be alright. After fifty years he still had that instinct to protect her. After fifty years he still loved her.

God, I don’t know what love is, but I know it when I see it.

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He died this weekend and we miss him. But that’s another type of love isn’t it? That part of you that is lost without the affection of your other. That aching question that asks, without answer, “How will I go on without them?”

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So the question remains. What is love? Could it be that hour you take out from your evening to buy your girlfriend a much wanted present? Is it that never ending desire to care for and protect your special person? Or can it only be truly appreciated once it is lost? Whatever it is, it certainly makes life that much more interesting.

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See you next month.

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Tessie passed away two years ago this summer. They both are dearly missed and their love is a testament to the best in us all.