"There are no certain indications by which we may clearly distinguish wakefulness from sleep ... I am lost in astonishment."*

(Source.)

Can you distinguish the lived from the dreamed in the following?



I am sitting on a couch holding a new baby. I look into his eyes and talk to him. I marvel at his beautiful head and bright-eyed alertness.

I am concerned that the number of children I have exceeds my capacity to parent. We are thinking about putting Anna up for adoption. Three couples among close friends and family are under consideration.

I am distraught. I run laps around the park letting tears spill down my face.

Eden leans over the railing of the top bunk and bemoans the newspapers' pre-occupation with Michelle Obama's clothes and who will walk the White House dog. "It's modern American media; it's what entertains us."

I am playing a game with my sisters, a combination of scrabble and monopoly. I am dissatisfied and wish for unadulterated scrabble.

I am switching back and forth between different pots and pans on the stove. Anna drags a chair over and climbs up. She reaches out to grab something and burns the side of her hand on the close hot burner. She gets a large blister that runs the length of her pinky.

I go and visit an experimental school. I consider doing P4C with some of the classes.

I am cutting small strips of brightly colored cloth. My excitement mounts in anticipation of the new combinations and fun pattern. I hope my recipient loves it as much as I do.

I am eating lunch with Daffodil. She keeps putting her sandwich in her glass of milk and pouring milk into another cup of water. I ask her not to do that. She persists so I take the cups away. She looks at me and says, "Don't treat me like that! If you do I will just do it again and again."

We are thinking about moving to Utah's high desert. We go to see a rustic cabin about 30 minutes away from Rockville for possible occupation. There are many aspects of the lifestyle that are appealing but I have a few hesitations: the second story that holds all the beds has a floor that consists of a suspended sheet and is only accessible by a wide vertical metal ladder that is exposed to many drafts. I am afraid we will all freeze in winter.

Martin and I are at a party. We are standing at the edge of the lights trying to eat homemade donuts off a string. Martin wins. I am surprised I can get the thing in my mouth at all. I eat another one for good measure.

Daffodil sits on the couch leafing through a Thai copy of the Book of Mormon. She looks at me and asks if I think it is a special book.

I am sitting in church. I have a hard time paying attention as ideas for a book come thick and fast.

Susan recently went to China. She unwittingly captured the heart of a young male shop clerk. He spent everything he had to buy her a $700 fly-fishing calculator. I try to persuade her not to accept the gift but to exchange it for the $100 version. The poor fellow should not be taken for everything he has.

Martin and I go for a short drive at the end of a date. We park in a parking lot and lean the captain seats back and talk. Martin asks me when the last time I slept in a carseat was. We talk some more. He takes issue with some of my statements. "It was my linguistic vehicle to draw attention to the 'but'."

We had Chris and Amy over for supper. We dress it up with fancy linens, china, and a single taper on a tall silver candlestick. We sing Christmas carols with the piano and then guitar. Later, kneeling in family prayer, we collapse into a heap of laughter.


*From Descartes' classic First Meditation.