Eyes To See With

I am in an upstairs bedroom of my mother's old family home after it was turned into a nursing home. The room has old fashioned maroon wallpaper with a white diamond shaped trellis pattern on it and white camellias growing on that. It is a sunny morning and I am talking to someone who is dust mopping the floor. I am sitting up on the bed to keep my feet out of their way.

The room belongs to an older man with dark hair and dark rimmed glasses, but he is not here. I ask where he is and the woman who is cleaning tells me to go ask my grandma. I leave and go down the wooden staircase outside a nearby window. At the bottom I take two steps and realize I am standing in muddy, murky water and tall grass that comes halfway up to my knees. I start to think about what might be in that water and realize I can't do that, or I will panic. Looking back I see that it will be almost as easy to go forward as backwards at this point, so I try to just keep walking as calmly and purposefully as possible.

While I am walking, the man I am looking for comes up the driveway and we start talking. He points out many important things to me that I no longer remember, but as we are speaking I keep walking through the muck to the other side of the driveway. I am standing by my grandmother's covered patio when he takes off. I wave good bye, then look down. Suddenly the moss and grass part and I can look into the water I just stepped out of.

It is much deeper than I thought and it is so beautiful. Huge tropical flowers are growing in shapes and colors I never knew existed and the hummingbirds we have been waiting for are here. Iridescent green and ruby throat-ed hummingbirds flutter by the flowers, drinking the nectar in this underwater wonderland.

I dreamed this last night, but it reminds me that I was not born the way I am now. My art teacher taught my eyes to see shades within the blues and greens and reds I thought I already saw and my music teachers have taught my ears to hear sounds within the sound of a band concert, or symphony orchestra. Other people have taught me to see those invisible spots to hit pool balls on, or how to back out of a long driveway. At some time, or other, it is all new and I need the teachers who come into my life to show me the way.

I have had great teachers, trustworthy, patient, compassionate and kind and for that I am so grateful. There will be many more before I die, because I need them. Life is one long learning process, but if I had to pick the one most important lesson I have ever learned, it would be that my happiness comes from inside me. Trying to buy something I can swallow, wear, ride, or play with to make me happy is only purchasing momentary distractions. Eventually they all go away and I am still left with me. Even other people can only do so much. Expecting someone else to add to my happiness is one thing. Expecting them to make me happy is something else