I love Renee and Jeremy. Several of their songs I've fallen head-over-heels in love with, such as Night Mantra and It's a Big World. Especially, It's a Big World. Turn off my theme and listen to this quickly.
I find that their music is calming, and soothing, and sweet. It immediately brings to mind moments that I spent reading or exploring as a little girl. For some reason, whenever I listen to their music, I get this soft, pink light kind of feeling. That gentle almost breeze-like sensation that washes over you, seeming to whisper, remember. And so I let myself get washed by the waves of memory and I think back to when I was little--when my dreams seemingly rivaled that big blue sky.
I dreamed of silly things. Of opening my mouth and speaking, and having gems fall out instead of words. I must have liked the thought of my words being so noble, so beautiful, so real, that they turned into jewels, spilling out of my mouth in rainbow hues and pebbling the ground with a pathway of fantasy. I dreamed of becoming famous--but truthfully, at that age, who didn't? The allure of being known and loved by millions used to always appeal to me; the thought of being someone so important, or so-called important was exciting, and so I dreamed.
I remember exploring when I was little, but not necessarily with my feet. I went on fabulous journeys in my mind--long, drawn out treks that ended with the promise of another day, another jaunt to travel on. My dreams and my explorations were always acted out, my poor friends and sister having to bear the brunt of my so-called games. They would play along with me, sometimes fully, more often than not, halfheartedly, not daring to venture into the lands I had built with my mind. Give a little girl a piece of a paper and a pen, and a whole world can be created.
I made maps, I wrote stories, I drew pictures with my pencils. I explored every day and I fantasized many wonderful things. The world was a big, beautiful place, where the worst problems could be solved with a kiss and a piece of chocolate, or a bandage on a scratch. Each and every day brought more and more excitement and joy to my life, and I flourished in that vividness that was present. I dreamed of marvelous and beautiful things.
But then I decided I wanted to grow up.
I was tired of being little...at least, I thought I was. The long held attraction towards the beautiful, whimsical fantasies of youth snapped, and I decided that it was time for me to grow up. I couldn't wear make up at nine, I couldn't drive, I couldn't watch all the movies, I couldn't stay up very late, and I most certainly had to eat all of my vegetables. But I was determined that I would grow up--I had decided to become the grown up me that I imagined. In my mind, I saw myself going to movies and restaurants with my friends, showing my artwork at galleries, dancing and singing on Broadway, and signing autographs for my bestseller. The glamorous life of adulthood was what I wanted...or so I thought.
So I pretended to grow up. But I would sneak those little moments of pretend again, where I could once again journey to those lovely lands of whimsy and make-believe. The fairies that I saw in those dreams were much more present than the quickly fading appeal of adult-hood.
It's only now that I wish I could go back and be a little girl again. I want to go back and experience that innocent joy at the simplest of things.
A part of the same verse in a different translation says, "God's kingdom is made up of people like these." And it truly is. Children believe in the bigger things, take joy in the little, and they are happy with the whimsical. They don't care if their hair is greasy, their fingers are sticky, and their clothes are a mess...they'll come up to you and give you. a big 'ol smooch and hug. Their grubby hands are the ones that hold the smashed up dandelions, a crumpled gift for momma. They're the ones we have to be careful around, because they're so easy to fall in love with. And they remember to dream.
And now, when I see this, it makes me happy.
It brings me back to memories of when I was that age as a little girl, and when I still believed in the beauty of my dreams. And it makes me feel as if I still could still pretend. As if I could slip on a flowy dress and go back in time to when the world was still big, big, big.....
I find that their music is calming, and soothing, and sweet. It immediately brings to mind moments that I spent reading or exploring as a little girl. For some reason, whenever I listen to their music, I get this soft, pink light kind of feeling. That gentle almost breeze-like sensation that washes over you, seeming to whisper, remember. And so I let myself get washed by the waves of memory and I think back to when I was little--when my dreams seemingly rivaled that big blue sky.
I dreamed of silly things. Of opening my mouth and speaking, and having gems fall out instead of words. I must have liked the thought of my words being so noble, so beautiful, so real, that they turned into jewels, spilling out of my mouth in rainbow hues and pebbling the ground with a pathway of fantasy. I dreamed of becoming famous--but truthfully, at that age, who didn't? The allure of being known and loved by millions used to always appeal to me; the thought of being someone so important, or so-called important was exciting, and so I dreamed.
I remember exploring when I was little, but not necessarily with my feet. I went on fabulous journeys in my mind--long, drawn out treks that ended with the promise of another day, another jaunt to travel on. My dreams and my explorations were always acted out, my poor friends and sister having to bear the brunt of my so-called games. They would play along with me, sometimes fully, more often than not, halfheartedly, not daring to venture into the lands I had built with my mind. Give a little girl a piece of a paper and a pen, and a whole world can be created.
I made maps, I wrote stories, I drew pictures with my pencils. I explored every day and I fantasized many wonderful things. The world was a big, beautiful place, where the worst problems could be solved with a kiss and a piece of chocolate, or a bandage on a scratch. Each and every day brought more and more excitement and joy to my life, and I flourished in that vividness that was present. I dreamed of marvelous and beautiful things.
But then I decided I wanted to grow up.
I was tired of being little...at least, I thought I was. The long held attraction towards the beautiful, whimsical fantasies of youth snapped, and I decided that it was time for me to grow up. I couldn't wear make up at nine, I couldn't drive, I couldn't watch all the movies, I couldn't stay up very late, and I most certainly had to eat all of my vegetables. But I was determined that I would grow up--I had decided to become the grown up me that I imagined. In my mind, I saw myself going to movies and restaurants with my friends, showing my artwork at galleries, dancing and singing on Broadway, and signing autographs for my bestseller. The glamorous life of adulthood was what I wanted...or so I thought.
So I pretended to grow up. But I would sneak those little moments of pretend again, where I could once again journey to those lovely lands of whimsy and make-believe. The fairies that I saw in those dreams were much more present than the quickly fading appeal of adult-hood.
It's only now that I wish I could go back and be a little girl again. I want to go back and experience that innocent joy at the simplest of things.
Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14
A part of the same verse in a different translation says, "God's kingdom is made up of people like these." And it truly is. Children believe in the bigger things, take joy in the little, and they are happy with the whimsical. They don't care if their hair is greasy, their fingers are sticky, and their clothes are a mess...they'll come up to you and give you. a big 'ol smooch and hug. Their grubby hands are the ones that hold the smashed up dandelions, a crumpled gift for momma. They're the ones we have to be careful around, because they're so easy to fall in love with. And they remember to dream.
And now, when I see this, it makes me happy.
It brings me back to memories of when I was that age as a little girl, and when I still believed in the beauty of my dreams. And it makes me feel as if I still could still pretend. As if I could slip on a flowy dress and go back in time to when the world was still big, big, big.....
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