DAYDREAMS

You know those quiet moments, that exist, while we are just waiting? When we are sitting alone in our cars, waiting in line, waiting for our clothes to stop spinning in the dryer. What do we do? What do we think about? Do we collectively daydream, and if so, what about?

Neruda wrote a poem about liking to examine human behavior so much so, that when he's exhausted these questions, he can speak not just of self, but of all of geography. Keity never liked it much, when he posed this elucidation. Yet my mind just created a picture of every human in every place, not thinking or focused on who they are, but who they want to be.

Sometimes I'll lean on the counter of the restaurant between customers, or on the desk at the office, waiting for the phone to ring, and my mind will start to wander. And I wonder if anybody else wonders about the same things as I do. Or if I'm just an odd bird.

Some days I'll dream of being on a beach in Bali, where the only action that's expected of me, is nothing. Other days, my family will ask me questions, and I'll think and rethink my answers every morning. Alane asked if I was going from my home in California to the southern tip of South America, would I, if given the choice, travel by plane, train, or automobile, and if I could stop in any 5 places before arriving at my final destination, where would they be? At first, I answered, that I'd stop to eat at the taco stands in Mexico, and eat paleta de mango with lots of chili powder on top. And then later I'll remember stories Charlie told me about diving in the Cayman Islands, or I'll want to see Machu Picchu in Peru, or beautiful people and narrow streets in Brazil that I've only seen in films. And my list will go far beyond 5, in the places I'd like to stop before arriving in Argentina.

I'll daydream of novels I'd like to write. Or being able to cook. Or about my house burning down, and the insurance company giving me enough money to replace everything inside with decorations and dishes from Anthropology. Or about the color I'll stain the wood of the floors in the treehouse I dream of one day living in.

And I realize, these quiet dreams keep me alive, and hoping, and smiling, that one day we'll stop waiting.