I am married to a dreamer. You would not think a software engineer would be such a dreamer, but he is. For years now, he’s been saying things like:
Dreamin…
“When we build a cabin and live up north…”
“When we live in England, we’ll do so and so….”
“When we live in Fiji…or Belize…”
And I confess that I had fallen into the Grinch-like habit of laying out all the reasons why those dreams are impractical. “I do not want to live in Fiji, I want to be near my sons. Who knows, maybe someday we’ll have grandchildren.” Or, “Live in remote Northern Minnesota when we’re old? That’s not the best time to contemplate living many miles away from decent healthcare.” I’d also say helpful things like, “Less talking. More doing,” thinking about the practical to-do list that was not getting done while he was busy building castles in the air. And then I quit arguing, and changed to silently rolling my eyes, thinking, Just let it pass and he’ll forget about the latest scheme or dream…. What a Grinch I was!
Not building castles here, but visiting one!
Then an old friend of mine shared a blog post written by her step-mom, Pamela, whom I’ve never met. I read it, and was shot between the eyes with an Aha! that made me realize how foolish I’d been to wish away the dreams of the man God has given me.
The post is called Dear Young Ones. It was written recently, though inspired several years ago, when the writer and her husband David took a trip out to the area where his parents had been raised, and while there sought out and visited a few distant cousins. You can read her whole lovely post here. But I will share an abridged excerpt:
…Herman, a man well into his 80s, lived at the end of a long driveway. Herman’s house and outbuildings sat out in the open, exposed to the sky like farms on the central Illinois prairie. We were not invited into the house but kept standing outside to talk with Herman, who stood on the stoop, his wife standing behind him, silent. Herman might have invited us in (or he might not), but he was on his way out, hot on the trail , he told us, of a neighbor’s spotted pony he wanted to buy, and so we took our leave.
Our memory of Herman and the spotted pony entertained us for years. We would laugh and shake our heads and ask each other what that old man in his 80s thought he needed with a spotted pony! Lately we understand better and no longer laugh, although we still smile.
And this is what I want to tell you…. No one, no matter how old, ever gets over wanting that spotted pony.
David watches the special features that come with movies on DVDs, telling me, “I learned a lot,” as if he will be directing a movie in the near future, and I read farming magazines as if I’ll very soon be bringing worn-out soil back to fertility and breeding livestock. When we travel together, we assess strange towns and wild landscapes as if we might start new lives there. We picture to ourselves and to one another the wilderness cabins where our novels will be conceived and birthed.
We’re not deluded, young ones. We know what’s real and what’s feasible, and we do not regret the lives we have made. At the same time, our fantasies continue to blossom in ways that would astound you. It’s a jungle in there, fertile and crowded with possibilities of all kinds, and in that largely shared space – because a shared life is built on conversation – the two of us are still young and vibrant and full of dreams.
Our projects at home may appear small to you these days – insignificant and barely there. You may puzzle over my modest pile of old bricks and David’s four stout wooden posts and wonder, if you even notice them, what we hope to make of such small beginnings. Ah, but if you could only see our future with our minds’ eyes!
Spotted ponies! Spotted ponies by the thousands, still out there on the horizon, thundering along the ridge, raising clouds of dust!”
I am so thankful for that post that opened my eyes. I had been criticizing instead of relishing those “dream together moments.” Talking about dreams—the attainable and the fanciful— is not only fun, but becomes part of our shared life and shared history that bonds us together.
After reading the blog, I of course thought of my husband and shared it with him, telling him I planned to dream with him more and more as this life we share goes on. In reply, he wrote back, “You wouldn’t believe the number of spotted ponies we have in our future, kins. I can see them now!”
A month or so later, when I opened my presents on Christmas morning, I found this card and spotted pony among them. He had searched for just the right one. Across the strewn boxes and torn wrapping paper, our eyes met. And my Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes.
Do you love to dream? What “spotted ponies” do you look forward to in your future?
Latest posts by Julie Klassen (see all)
- How I Picked The Setting For My New Novel - April 22, 2025
- New Books For Your TBR Pile! - April 8, 2025
- Julie’s Favorites - April 6, 2025
Oh, Julie! This brought tears to my eyes and a determination to never quit dreaming with my husband (who’s had some doozies…including a few that have come true! Just think if his dreams had been squelched!) Thanks, I needed this today! And now I’m going to go pop a few more pins on my Pinterest board about that loft overlooking a river that my hubby longs to live in someday.
Thanks, Deborah. Glad the post touched you. Happy Pinning!
Thank you so much for listening to that nudge from the Holy Spirit and being compelled to share it with us. My husband and daughter are the dreamers in our family, while my son and I thrive on routine and practicality. I think they both serve a purpose, but the latter can definitely stifle the dreamers. While reading your post, I felt the nudge, as well and I don’t want to be the sqelcher of my family’s dreams. Thank you, again, for sharing.
You are very welcome, Terrill. Glad Pamela’s story nudged you as well. 🙂
Needed to read this today for lots of reasons…thx for posting……totally different than probably most other people but important to me personally…………….
Hi Anna. You are welcome; glad it was timely for you!
Ahhh, Julie. I think that of all the posts I have read of yours that this one has touched me the most. And what a wonderful husband you have. I would have loved to have seen your face on Christmas morning when you opened up that present. Heres to all the spotted ponies! May we never stop dreaming!
Aw, thanks, Barb. Yes, my husband is “special” all right! 😉 Seriously though–He’s a keeper.
Hi Julie, what a touching post! Thank you for sharing this wonderful insight about marriage and how to sweeten it through the years. My husband is a visionary who often has dreams and ideas about things he’d like to accomplish. I tend to be more practical, seeing the reasons why those ideas might be risky. But I’m learning to be more open and listen rather than put dampers on those dreams. Love the spotted pony you received! : )
Thanks, Carrie. And thanks for sharing on FB, too. Something tells me your visionary-husband has even bigger (scarier :)) dreams than mine!
Beautiful post, Julie. When we stop dreaming we stop living–it’s as simple as that.
Good point, Lynn. Thanks for reading and commenting today, my friend!
This is beautiful! When you’re bogged down with life, you sometimes forget to dream – especially together.
Hi Carolyn! Glad you enjoyed it. Pamela’s post had a strong effect on me and I’m glad others are being touched by it, too.
This is so wonderful! My husband and I love to dream together! When we move to Idaho, when we live in Texas, when we travel the country in our converted school bus… it often makes the kids nervous but we like to be adventurous, at least in our dreams 🙂
Oh, my, goodness, Beth! My husband once had a converted-school-bus dream, too, but I think I was finally successful in squashing that one. 😉 Enjoy your adventures together!
I loved this! We writers should know best of all the importance of respecting and protecting dreams. But we’re just as susceptible as anyone else to letting them be crushed under the weight of practicality and realism. Thanks, Julie!
True, Becky. You’d think, as a writer, I’d be more of a dreamer than he is. But I’m working on less crushing and more supporting. 🙂
Julie, I love this! Great shift in perspective, for sure. My ponies? Let’s see…
living in Montana (or Italy or Ireland)
being a published author
having a dozen kids
having a personal library as large as the one Beast gave Beauty in the Disney film
So neat that your hubby found that spotted pony for you. What thought he put into it, and creativity, and much, much love. You are truly blessed, my friend.
~Andrea
I love this post! I am married to a dreamer and facilitator. His dreams have given us adventures all over the world. Of course he has opened the world to our children as well so they do live far away. We give thanks when all of them live in this country and are able to spend Christmas with us. We are getting older and maybe the travels will be shorter and fewer but the memories are still vivid and cherished.
THANK YOU! I thought I was too old to dream, but you have inspired me to look for my own spotted pony! (& I would love to retire, during the summer months, UP NORTH in MN!LOL!) But, I’ve realized then I would have (2) TWO places to maintain…PS: My Dad always had a summer project at the cabin on Upper South Long Lake, Crow Wing County, when I was growing up!
Loved this, Julie! Btw, our book club is reading The Painter’s Daughter this month, meeting on Tuesday, the 26th. We are in Eastern time zone and meet at 10:00 am. Do you ever Skype or FaceTime with book clubs? I am not hosting so would need to OK with the hostess if you are willing.
Thanks,
Karen
This is wonderful Julie. I love spotted ponies (roans with spots being my all time favorite), but now I have a new association for them. A profound and inspiriting one.
Oh, I love this. Spotted ponies!!!!! Yes!!!!
Awwww! Isn’t that special!
You are one fortunate woman. I wish you both many years together to build those fantasies.
Julie,
I love this post SO, SO much! How lovely that you were able to change your attitude toward hubby’s dreams and even share in them. That is beautiful. This really spoke to me, too. I probably spend too much time thinking about spotted ponies that will never be, but those are some pleasant moments, imagining that they might. Thanks so much for sharing this with us.
I love how you loved what I wrote, and I especially love your actual, physical, albeit small (china?) spotted pony!!!
I read Pamela’s blog regularly but somehow had missed this one from last November. Her post made me smile (yes, I went and read it all, thank you for the link.) Your post made me tear up. I’m so glad you and your husband are enjoying spotted ponies together now. And who knows? One of those ponies may even come true.