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to dream the adventurous dream

July 27th, my dad’s birthday. Alvar would have been 68 today. I had a dream about him 13 years ago, shortly after he died: he was driving in an old blue convertible with the top down on a long stretch of highway, wind in his wavy blonde hair.  He was free, at peace. I’d like to think that adventurous spirit of his is still here, helping me to fearlessly live my own adventure. Reminding me to appreciate each precious day I am given on this earth as another chance to keep growing, creating, learning — to be alive, awake, and experience the great depths (and many forms) of love.

 

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