this is from a dream, written right after waking, dreamt after applying for jobs that i'm not sure are "right," that may require an uncomfortable adjustment for me to fit in. also this past weekend, went to a thoroughly enjoyable family reunion. so the fifties feel isn't from my history--i'm not THAT old, lol! but it's a reflection of how i imagine my parents' time and, perhaps, of what i've seen in my grandmother's, and her generation's, eyes. (i am now the age they were in the dream.)
the phrase, "the softest eyes," continues to echo in my mind.
Fifties setting, home on a hill,
physically healthy people
emotionally adjusting to
imperfect lives
--in that they
can't be themselves
--but haven't realized it yet.
Mothers making due, stretching meat over 3 or 4 meals while men make conquests of the pretty women.
Both mothers and pretty women are sad, but they're physically healthy, surviving better than the women before them. The men too.
The mothers have the softest eyes.
-.-
so that's the essential nature of the dream.
big shade trees, grassy uncurbed lawns that ramble, a slower pace, although it's a faster pace than times before. folks stretching themselves into new areas of Life that they don't know yet
--or are just realizing
are yet unsatisfying.
the mothers know. they have the softest eyes.
they don't seem happy.
that isn't the point, is it?
the point is the health, the shepherding of the youth, the trying to provide what will enable them to be happy, whatever that may be--so far out of reach in the future--so far from their mind's reach.
part of their soft gaze is that it's only partially in the present--they're doing the best they can to connect, somehow, with a happier future.
not personally, but for the youth they support.
are we any different today?
i want to have the softest eyes.
