When I was a little girl, my dad traveled very often. When we would take him to the airport I would long to go with him. I wanted to fly on the airplane more than I wanted a pony. One day he surprised me and offered to take me along with him.
I chickened out. I don’t know why I got so scared, maybe because I was only 7.
This anxiousness continues today, especially when I entertain. I am an early freak anyway, but I’m always pacing checking for guests, planning for where I will put all the food in case no one shows up. It’s so silly, even if less people arrive than I invited, it always ends up so nice. The people who don’t show aren’t even missed. We just celebrate who is there, and toast who didn’t show.
I’m sure someone smarter than me can analyze all this anticipation anxiety. There is a change coming that I’ve longed for for over a year. The fact that this dream will finally come true, I’m weepy. The thought that this dream might actually be so close has me ready to run back to the safety of just dreaming, instead of reaching out and living this dream. Can I really embrace this dream and enjoy it? Will I enjoy the reality as much as the dream?
So to be ready to live out this dream, I find myself humbled and ready to prepare, so that I can live this dream to the fullest extent. I want the reality of it to be better than I ever imagined.
Maybe that’s my new dream, making the future reality better than how I’ve imagined it. Vivre le Vorfreude!