March 14, 2008


Someday I’ll have a house down by the beach, where my front yard is nothing but sand and sun and surf. It won’t be one of those huge, granite and cement houses that look like they’d fit in better on the palm-tree-lined streets of Beverly Hills. No, it’ll be something smaller, and cozier—more like a beach cottage than a mansion. And it’ll have huge windows that open up completely so my living room smells like salt from the sea breeze.

My kitchen will be big and open, with an island in the middle, and my bedroom will have a balcony where I can sit and talk the night away with friends or read a book until my eyes get tired. And the whole house will be decorated in blues and greens and whites and light browns, a peaceful blend of earth tones, with bright pillows and knick knacks here and there for some punch.

During the week, I’ll wake up early and take my mug of coffee outside to enjoy the early morning ocean air and flip through the newspaper. I’ll watch the sunrise and the early morning joggers and listen to the seagulls searching for their breakfast. In the evenings, I’ll come home after work and go for a run on the beach path. Then I’ll cook dinner, with my windows open of course, so I can hear everyone walking their dogs and pushing their baby strollers. I’ll put on some music, maybe Bob Marley or something country, and when it’s time to eat, I’ll pour myself a glass of wine and settle down to eat in the golden beams of the sunset.

On the weekends, I’ll have friends over, and we’ll fire up the bbq and grill hot dogs and hamburgers and sip cocktails while we watch the parade of people bike, walk or skate by us on the bike trail. Then, when we’re full, we’ll play a game of beach volleyball and lounge in the sun until dusk.

Someday I’ll have all of this and more.


(I know it may seem silly to write a blog about “someday” when I just said we should all live for “today.” But, as James Dean once said, “dream as if you’ll live forever, live as is if you’ll die today,” right?)


Mr. Kale Iverson said...

I totally know what you mean about somedays. I always have trouble deciding whether I want to live on a lake, river or ocean. I just know I want to live on water. I also know that I want to have a huge covered porch with steps to play guitar on and a stereo to rock out. I love being outside, but also on furniture. Maybe its a WSU thing. I also think that you having the whole thing visualized so vividly will totally call the forces of the universe together to make it happen. Positive thinking is huge!

breakfast in canada said...

Positive thinking like yours is infectious and disheartening at the same time. I sometimes forget about my someday, or I'm saddened the few times I do remember, thinking my wants will never materialize. I'm heavy with the weight of my choices, none of them "on the mark." I'm reminded of a creative writing assignment I was given in high school. Write down your 20 rules to live by. "Have no regrets" I jotted down, being 17 and silly, not realizing how difficult it is to let mistakes and missed opportunities flutter off you into the wind. "Abandon rules" was another. If I had lived by the rules my 17 year old mind had envisioned, I'd be alone in a hammock looking out at a turquoise ocean, at peace, not for one second missing anything or anyone I've left behind. How is it that the someday my 17 year old self imagined turned into this?

I wrote a letter to myself when I was 17, sealed it, and I promised myself not to open it for 10 years. Now, almost 11 years later, I wonder, where is that letter? What in the world did I tell myself? I can’t wait to find it now. Will I be disappointed or will I laugh at how naïve I used to be?

Positive thinking can make all your wishes come true, but for some, systems are in place designed to always keep their dreams from coming true. Let’s never forget those people, those communities, the children that will always want. For them, someday will never happen.

So for them, our "somedays" should always include a just world.

My someday will happen, one day.