A New Dream

I woke up this morning with a stirring in my heart. Something had happened. And it took my foot touching the ground to remind me what.

I had a dream last night that I think will affect the way I love and lead my daughter for the rest of her life.

Simone is pretty. And pink.

Pretty slippers. Pretty hair. Pretty dress.

Pink sippy cup. Pink jammies. Pink pony.

But Simone is more than pretty and pink.

She’s fierce and fiery. Strong and soulful. And I don’t want to ever stunt the growth of those latter characteristics because I’m so stuck on the former qualities.

Matt and Lauren came over Sunday night. And somewhere in there, we talked about parenting. And gender. And stereotypes. And what it could/would/should look like to lead our children into being all they were meant to be. And freeing and releasing them to be even more.

I thought of Simone. Pretty and Pink.

And I thought of Simone. A force to be reckoned with. A fearless leader.

In my dream, I’m stuck in a forest somewhere. It’s snow-covered. Frozen. And I’m not just lying their frostbitten. I’m on the run. Something’s chasing me. And I’m not alone. I’m trying to keep someone else alive too.

I look back. Bears. Viciously angry. Approaching.

And wolves. Packs of them. Snarling. Poised to attack.

I break open into a field. A wide open space. A shoreline in the distance I barely see. I’m running and breathing and cold air flowing and hair flying. Looking over my shoulder to see the person I’m protecting. Looking behind to see the enemy fast approaching.

And then…

On the horizon in front of me. Emerges. An even greater pack of wolves. Darting toward me. A pack of purpose and pursuit.

I stop dead in my tracks. Perhaps soon to be…

dead. in. my. tracks.

I close my eyes. Hold tight to my companion. And just stand still. Whole body clenched. Bracing for the blow.

But all that hits…

Is the whoosh and wave of wolves wildly racing past. I look up to see them racing by in attack of my attackers. I breathe. And turn back toward the sea.

And then.

I look up.

And I see her.

This bold, brave young woman. A horse below her. A sword in hand.

Leading the charge. An avalanche of army behind her.
Eyes determined. Resolve in her bones. A fight to be fought.

Fierce and Fiery. A fearless leader. A force to be reckoned with.

She passes right by , never even needing to look my way. Eyes on the enemy. A commander in full command. Taking charge. Pursuing with passion and purpose.

Simone. My little girl. Grown. Full of life. Strong. Soulful.

And me. Her father. In awe.