Life Is A Game

imageLife’s A Game
You have to be in it to win it.

I had a dream. It woke me up: it was so upsetting.

I had won. He gave me one one-hundred dollar bill and rolls of quarters to equal four hundred more. I don’t question the logic in a dream! I put them all into a bag, along with a bottle of wine, and went off to a ball game. Again, don’t question. I tucked my winnings under my seat and started watching the game. After a while, I became complacent and wandered off to a back room where I turned my attention to scrapbooking some of my favorite photos.(Shh) I returned to the game, once, to make sure that my bag was still safely under my seat but then retreated to the back room again. My bag was safe, and the game was still going on as usual. It didn’t need my attention.

I was working away, with focus and joy on my project, when, all of a sudden, I realized that I no longer heard the crowd noise. Everything had become silent. When did that happen? I jumped up and ran towards the stadium seating only to discover that it had grown dark and I could no longer see where my seat was! My money, my bag of money! I needed to get that bag of money.

And then I woke up. Immediately, I reached for a notebook to write this down. This one was too intriguing to let go. I don’t remember or bother to write down the boring dreams.

While I am no dream analysis expert, I do enjoy trying to figure out the deep dark musings of my sleep mind. I mean, really, who has a dream where they win a bag of quarters? And then, carry it into a game with a bottle of wine?

Well, as I ponder the potential meaning of this ridiculous dream, I try to equate it with my current life circumstances. It’s got to be about something that I carried into bed with me the night before, right? And, no, I didn’t go to bed with a bag of money and a bottle of wine!
What I did go to bed with were thoughts of how quickly life changes from feeling as though things are happily humming along to, maybe, not.so.happily.humming.along. So, perhaps, there is a lesson tucked away in this dream. Let’s ponder that thought!

As luck would have it, today is Opening Day for baseball, here, and, it is also the day of the college basketball championship. The baseball game is the first of many. The fans will show up just to tailgate and celebrate this unofficial first day of spring. Now the basketball game, on the other hand, has even me staying up late to watch. This one is big. ON WISCONSIN!

Now, back to analyzing the dream.

I have never been a true sports fan. I go to baseball games to watch people and to my college football games to watch the half time show and participate in the fifth quarter. Even during national football games, you are just as likely to find me walking in the woods as watching the game. So that part of the dream is logical for me: go to the game, settle into a seat, then wonder off (mentally or physically, either one, to something else). It’s the part about winning a bag of money and just leaving it sitting under a seat that has me scratching my head. I mean, What is that about? Why a hundred dollar bill and rolls of quarters? When I think of quarters, I think of slot machines. Does this mean that I’m the kind of person who gambles with her money? Does it mean that I don’t care about money? And then, there’s the issue of the bottle of wine. First, how was I able to carry it into the game? Second, why? Third, and maybe most important, if I went to the trouble of carrying it in, why did I leave it under the seat instead of taking it back with me while I lingered over my photo life? And, fourth, how was it that, when I went running back to find my seat, I was only concerned about the bag of money and not the wine? Really? Maybe this means that having that glass of wine isn’t as important as I thought.

Ok, now seriously, let’s try to analyze this thing. Here’s what I come up with.

Life is a game, It’s a series of different events; each with their own beginning, middle, and end. I go into the game with a level of excitement, intrigue, anticipation, and lots of hopeful enthusiasm. Then, there’s a point where I wander off; seemingly not interested in the game going on in front of me and more interested in lingering over past memories (of previous games?). The bag of money, under the seat, seems like even if I win a game, I don’t necessarily covet the prize as much as I do the memories. The bottle of wine is a celebration tucked away for later. Then, when the current game comes to an end, as I know it will, I am surprised. Why? How many times will it take to understand that the rules never change. Everything comes to an end! Why do I always feel as though I am left in the dark, frantically running around trying to find my…self, again?

So, here I am now, thinking about how I have spent my life’s time; My Big Game. Am I winning or losing? Am I playing the game or have I wandered off spending too much time trying to turn my past into a scrapbooked work of art while today slips away?

That bag of money…my past winnings…am I celebrating my successes, am I proud of my achievements, or am I hiding them under a seat, thinking they are not as important as memories of my failures? And that silly bottle of wine. It’s taking up space in my bag. It seems to be nothing more than a burden to carry from place to place.

Here are my final, profound thoughts:
Dreams worth writing down are worth thinking about.
Life is a game.
You can’t win, at life, if you don’t put yourself in the game.
Remember, every game has a beginning, a middle, and an end.
I have an amazing collection of memories: funny and sad, good and bad, my very own scrapbooked work of art.
Now I just need to make sure that all of the memories show proof that it was a game well played.
Don’t linger too long over past wins and losses. Today is the only game that counts.

Now, GO BADGERS!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s