Today one of my longtime dreams was fulfilled. I visited Mont St. Michele (still here actually). The experience of approaching the Mont as it loomed out of the fog was surreal. I took an enormous quantity of photos and my mouth might have been gaping wide open the entire time. I was in just as much awe four hours later when I watched the tide creep up to the island and flow past at its alarming speed. I am having the most amazing time and looking forward to taking advantage of the hotel to take an outrageously long shower tomorrow…. but what next?
Alright, that’s a dream fulfilled. A stomach happy. A bucket list item crossed off. But the point for me is to keep on dreaming. I desperately wanted to see Mont St. Michele and now I have seen the second highest tide in the world cutting off one of the only two part time islands. I guess that means I ought to set my sights on visiting that other island, in Asia. It’s a new and vague goal… but the idea is that I let my fulfilled dreams themselves inspire the next dream.
On a simpler dimension, I have visited three areas of France, so clearly the only logical aspiration is to visit a fourth and a fifth part of France. That forth area will actually be taken care of as soon as next weekend, as I venture forth on a school trip, during which I’ll even be trying foie gras (with considerable trepidation due to both anticipated taste and animal rights claims).
Dreams have to build off of each other, so that each one is more grand than the previous and life can continue to hold its wonder and mystery. It’s the dreams that keep wanderlust alive. And some days it seems that wanderlust is what’s keeping me alive.