To sleep, perchance to dream.

I ended the evening watching a small rabbit run across a lawn in Balboa Park. I briefly wished for what I perceived: the rabbit's idyllic life. Then I wondered how many wild rabbits die of old age. A little bit of perspective as I made my way home. (I am, after all, the one who calls them "coyote food.") "It is nature", my mom would say. "It is okay." But, I can appreciate not being the rabbit.

If you were an animal what animal would you be? Now THAT is a ridiculous question. You are an animal. Hate to break it to you. You have pretty much three choices: animal, vegetable, mineral. I choose to be an animal. The animal I am.

"...Calves are easily bound and slaughtered, never knowing the reason why. Those who've learned to treasure freedom, like the swallow have learned to fly." I don't "fly" in any literal sense. I don't even run. Well, not very well. I do walk. I walk. And I always feel as if I am walking toward something. The walking is the journey. The journey may be everything.

The last time I ran it was to Hawaii. Not a bad place to go when one is running away. I was 18. I thought I was on an adventure, but what I was really doing was running away from college, my boyfriend, my parents, but mostly from myself. Hard to run from one's self. Good lesson. Haven't done that since. The need to stay and solve is now too great. The solving is satisfying on a profound level and lets me sleep at night.

Ah, to sleep. Well, in my case, to snore. But in those dreams of sleep what glorious solutions may be found. (Not to mention, a little rest from the day.) Wait. That makes me wonder. Is dreaming the escape we need? This is not physical travel, but perhaps this is more profound. Just wondering aloud. I do enjoy my dreams.

My husband says I sometimes call cues in my sleep. Hmm. Well, he sometimes speaks Arabic in his sleep. I think we are even.