Tag Archives: dreams

Tales of Intuition

It was not unusual for me to see the future- well maybe not the future so much as the present that I didn’t have physical access to. It was March 12, 2011, late at night or early in the morning, maybe. I slept soundly in my bed and dreamed that I was on a cruise ship in the Pacific between Hawaii and Japan. My boyfriend and I were arguing in the solarium on the uppermost floor. Suddenly a gigantic tidal wave reached out of the sea, dwarfed our large cruise ship, and inevitably crashed onto its top deck.

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Following Your Dreams is Truly Divine Work

Flowers Hayley Rose 2009

Often, the most difficult thing in life is being true to yourself. By the time your cognitive development is over you have been bombarded with millions of different ideas; ideas that have shaped your personality by telling you not only what you should be doing but who you should be. Many of these messages come from the people who brought us up, friends and relatives, however; the media and culture play undeniable roles in our world view. From the time you are ready to begin life as an adult you are often in a headspace so far away from your true self that you can no longer identify your passion or dreams. Then life gets you. Responsibilities and bills imperative for survival come to the forefront and things like following your innermost dreams seem like something silly, something you tell yourself you will have time to do later.

It is never too late to follow your dreams, sometimes you just have to do a little back peddling. Your truest self is the self that remains when you stop letting the opinions of others penetrate your mind. The only way you will ever reach your true is by not caring about what others think, and stepping forward with courage. It does not matter what others think, following your dream is divine work; it is between you and God. Continue reading

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Why You Should Never Give Up

This is my newest piece on The Huffington Post. It is about the most important virtue one must have to be successful. One of my favorite examples of someone who never gave up is Susan Boyle.

A few years ago, at a local dive, I ran into a few girls I had gone to middle school with. One of them was a local actress. We spoke about our artistic pursuits. Both of us, about 22 at the time, had reached some sort of slump. Acting was such a tough business to break into that she had finally decided to enroll in a local state college to study psychology.

And just a few nights ago, I watched from my living room as she performed on the Tony Awards.

It turns out that not long after our meeting, she got her big break when the producers of “Hairspray” needed to replace the headliner. She was perfect for the lead, and since “Hairspray,” she has continued to go on to bigger and better things.

The worst thing you can ever do is give up, especially if you are bluffing and intend to eventually go back to what you started. As a writer and artist, I received many rejection letters over the years. After I got rejected from MFA programs, I was so discouraged that I stopped writing for six months. The road had been bumpy even before the subsequent MFA rejections started to come in. Before finishing my undergraduate degree, I began asking my professors to write me letters of recommendation. When I asked one of my professors, one that I respected the most, for a recommendation for MFA programs, he laughed in my face. I told him that I wanted to be a professor. He told me not to bother and to “just go teach elemetary school or something.”

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The Only Existing Footage of Anne Frank

Recently a friend shared with me a short video clip called. “The Only Existing Video Footage of Anne Frank.” The video is only twenty seconds long. It gives the viewer a brief snap shot of a street in Amsterdam during 1941. It shows people walking down the street, a bicyclist, a couple who was just married. Then the camera pans upwards to a nondescript balcony. From the second the lens sets its sight on the balcony, one immediately recognizes the profile of this famous young girl. Anne Frank leans over the railing, then looks behind her as someone from within the house beckons her. Her unmistakable ringlets cascade as she looks down toward the street. She is not on the film for more than two seconds. This silent film clip is the only known footage of her.

She has become an icon, a cultural phenomena, an important bookend of an era full of the suffering and murder of countless Jewish families. Anne did not survive the war, in fact her father was the only survivor of the group that hid out in the secret annex. After being liberated, her father, Otto Frank, left Auschwitz in search of his family. Upon learning his wife has perished, he returned to Amsterdam with the hope of finding his two young daughters. He finds, of course, that they too have died. A friend gives him Anne’s writings and diary. Otto then works to fufill her one wish: to have her diary published.

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Never Give Up

A few years ago, at a local dive, I ran into a few girls I went to middle school with. One of them was a local actress. We spoke about our artistic pursuits. Both of us, about 22 at the time, had reached some sort of slump. Acting was such a tough business to break into that she finally decided to enroll in a local state college to study psychology.

A few nights ago, I watched from my living room as she performed on the Tony Awards. Not long after our meeting, she got her big break when the producers of Hairspray needed to replace the headliner Nicky Blonsky. She was perfect for the lead and since Hairspray, she has continued to go on to bigger and better things.

The worst thing you can ever do is give up, especially if you are bluffing and intend to eventually go back to what you started. As a writer and artist, I received many rejection letters over the years. After I got rejected from MFA programs, I was so discouraged that I stopped writing for six months. The road had been bumpy even before the subsequent MFA rejections started to come in. Before finishing my undergraduate degree, I began asking my professors to write me letters of recommendation. When I asked one of my professors, one that I respected the most, for a recommendation for MFA programs, he laughed in my face. I told him that I wanted to be a professor. He told me not to bother and to “just go teach elemetary school or something.”

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A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes…

My friends hate Disney World. This bothers me. I don’t hate Disney, although they’re a huge corporation; a big conglomerate that doesn’t stop at Disney but sprawls over oceans and across continents like most historic empires. I don’t think my friends hate them for this reason either. Although they blame their hatred of all things Disney on their high ticket prices, and $5 bottles of water, I think it is something that goes deeper than this.

Lately, I’ve heard a lot of talk about people disliking Disney’s “Princess” message, and that it’s dangerous for little girls to grow up thinking they are one day going to find their “prince charming and live happily ever after.” I will admit to being a victim of this mentality, but reality made sure it didn’t last for long. I don’t think I’m the only woman who after years of dating jerks and creeps, was surprised to find out that even “Prince Charming” is less than perfect, human if you will. Regardless of this surprise, I still don’t hate Disney.

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Karma, Kinda

My grandmother drove a powder blue Monte Carlo. Whenever she drove anywhere, she was constantly approached by men and teenage boys who wanted to buy her car. She had no interest in selling it. She loved that car intensely and even said she wanted to be buried in it. I’d dismiss her idea as crazy, then quietly wonder  how wide of a hole they’d have to dig to do such a thing. I’d picture the grounds keeper sweating profusely as he dug. After half a day, he’d finally finished digging the hole, and  like a traffic cop, he signaled the others to lower it into the ground using a crane.

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Evaluated

Painting by Hayley Rose, Copyright 2008

 

Throughout my lifetime, I can recall the instances in which I got the look. It was typically given to me by what I can most tersely describe as “left-brained people.”  They’ve squinted their eyes, raised their eyebrows, and scrunched-up their noses at me without even attempting to hide that they were questioning my sanity. However, in my youth I’d existed in a blissful ignorance, never suspecting anyone of doing this to me until one day….

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