Living the Dream: Thanksgiving Dreams
Justin Grimes / (email@example.com)
Imagine a Carolina blue sky and no wind the morning after a big snow. It’s quiet. You are on the mountain early, first thing, before the public arrives. Conditions are perfect. Your eyes take in the enormous panorama the top provides. Mother Nature’s morning brush strokes blend with the crystal air that fills your lungs as you leap down the slope making first tracts.
Or imagine finishing your class, faithfully saying goodbye to your students —knowing you will probably see them again because you have had the pleasure of teaching them how to ski or ride or improve upon their previous techniques or how to adjust their line at high speed in the gates when racing or delighting in hearing a three-year-old scream to their parents, “Look I’m skiing.”
Those moments and many magical others like them and the accompanying sense of accomplishment led someone in snowsports to say long-ago, “I’m living the dream.”
A phrase that’s stuck; a phrase best describing and denoting a camaraderie of understanding between professionals, of being in the moment, living, participating and appreciating all the dutiful work, the years of drills and practice that got each of them there; a phrase of gratitude, brotherhood, respect and thanksgiving.
We all have dreams: children dream of tooth fairies, of Santa’s and playing in tree-tops while singing the chorus of life; adolescents dream of love; young adults dream of mates. In the middle of life, we often stop and ask why and dream of responsibilities. In older age, we have bucket lists and dream of youth.
Puppies dream and make sweet noises.
To dream is as part and parcel of our existence as water is to our survival, “people got to dream.”
It’s clear to me that today’s Thanksgiving embellishes all that’s good about community. Our annual get together of family, groups and friends is mostly the celebration of our common desires and dreams, a time that bountifully binds our collective visions, a time for hugs; a time to understand that we are not alone on the mountain.
A time to look back on investments made by individuals, communities and those of good intentions who wrote for us a foundation, a document that insures the pursuit of happiness and freedom of speech.
I enjoy looking back and reflecting upon the 100 year-old motto of Linville Improvement Company, “to aid liberally in the establishment of first-class institutions of learning, libraries, museums and whatever else is practicable and desirable for the welfare of the community.”
Those folks had living the dream in mind, didn’t they?
I’ve much to be thankful for this thanksgiving, a man affectionately known as Maxwell for one – he guides my writing; my son, mother, Jackson, our Golden retriever, my health, professionals and friends, but most of all, I’m grateful for you readers; living, hoping and dreaming that you share the magic and “hear my voice come through the music.”
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!