Writing my way through the A-to-Z blogging challenge, I’ve tasked myself with throwing open the cabinet of curiosities and wondrous things I call my brain and leading you on a tour of what actually resides in there – all through the lens of unusual, obscure, or simply charming-to-me words.
C is for…
conspicio – is a Latin verb meaning watch, look at, gaze, stare; notice, catch sight of.
I have always had a most interesting and entertaining dream life, and yet over the last year it has hurdled itself into entirely new realms of fabulousness. These nights I often catch a glimpse of me as another iteration of me, and it is a most curious and fascinating thing. It’s as though I’m seeing myself in past and future lives, allowing myself to see more of what I have access to than what I seem to be carrying in this life.
In one of the earliest of this type of dream, I was speaking what I recognized to be Latin. I awoke with a great curiosity.
My husband had a classical education and his knowledge of Latin and Greek far exceed mine. In truth ANY knowledge of those languages exceeds my quite pedestrian early education. Still when I was thinking about this dream, somehow I was led to rabbit-hole myself into looking into Latin words and found the treasure of conspicio.
These dream “witnessings” likely have as many feasible explanations as there are readers reading this, and I think that’s as it should be. I believe we are all sovereign and it is up to us to choose what understandings we take from things, and how we use them to interact with our worlds.
I have always believed dreams are much more than random firing of brain synapses sorting through the waking days flotsam and jetsom, a belief many people hold. I genuinely delight in the endless array of gifts that arrive during sleep time. The messages, conundrums, puns, puzzles, wacky characters, visits from beloveds no longer in this world; the fantastic, the improbable, the mystical, the ordinary, the skewed, the recurring, the sublime. The lucid experiences, the flying adventures, the mutual dreams. I delight in my dream ability to sing and dance in ways I don’t seem to be able to replicate in my waking states; and dreams show me things that are luminescent. Dreams help me open to receive messages that my waking consciousness isn’t quite able to hold. They inspired me. They help me know myself more fully. They delight me with the joy of learning this soul language, and the fact that they’re always adding new words to the vocabulary and then demanding I write my own definitions, because after all, we both know the only dream dictionary worth using is the one we write ourselves. Dreams have given me a deep and sacred practice that I’ve been exploring since I was a child; given me fodder for countless journals; piqued my curiosity about countless things, and led me to deep connections with other dreams. They given me laughter; and bizarre and astonishing images that I rush to capture sketches of so I won’t forget. Dreams are magical, and never stop sending me these secret messages; these nightly tickets to the best theatre ever; treats I enjoy as they are unfolding and then again when I consider them upon wakening. Dreams challenge us to know ourselves better. They invite us to learn a richly expressive, oh-so-beautiful private language. They invite us to remember, in the most simple way, that we are so much more than we often experience ourselves as in our often-limited vision of ourselves.
I believe there are private dreams, and there are dreams we dream for the collective, but no matter which, I am love this quote by Marsha Norman:
“Dreams are illustrations…from the book your soul is writing about you.”
Now that you know how conspicio came to me, and what I’m looking at in my dreams, here’s something else I’ve been gazing at today.
It’s a lovely little piece of lepidolite with rubellite. Somehow every year at the beginning of Spring it calls out to me and I spend some time with it. While this is a polished stone, I also have a rough unpolished one, and they are both dear friends. There’s no mistaking their lithium-based sweetness. They make me think of Spring and all it’s promise, and the bits of rubellite remind me of new shoots first emerging from the ground. I’m always reminded of the pure magic of Spring-time growth – how things so fragile have such enormous potential.
What about you? Conspicio means gaze, notice, watch. I’m keeping my eyes open for magic everywhere. What’s got your attention? Do tell – you know I love to hear.
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OK, I have dream envy!! Lovely images
Beth
http://bethlapinsatozblog.wordpress.com/
LOL – dream envy! Love that Beth. Here’s wishing you some magical ones.
Thanks Deborah … lovely word conspicio – I know that I’ve dreamed in Latin and spoken aloud in Latin in my dream – I’ve been told so!
For some, dreams are conspicuous in their absence I suppose, for whatever reason … I love to gaze and watch over them – I am extremely curious about what my dreams may be saying …
Oh I love that you’ve been overheard in a dream speaking Latin – that delights me Susan.
And yes, I can’t imagine you not being curious and delving deeply into your dreams. It’s clearly one of your hallmarks.
Interesting word. You have very vivid and creative dreams!
What’s got my attention, related to “magic” right now? Well, I count it is pretty “magical” to watch spring unfold! The tiny brown seeds emerging into little plants. I check on them daily!
Leaves unfurl on the fruit trees. It’s amazing how some flowers close on the cloudy days and open in the sun.
I like how you mention the potential in such fragile things as new growth. So easily stepped on or eaten.
Oh I agree Lisa – Spring unfolding is indeed magical. So many wonders to behold and appreciate!
The word looks like conspicuous, which is key for me, as you know. I’m discovering that I need to actively look to notice what is conspicuous and yet hiding in plain sight. I don’t remember very many of my dreams. Some of them I want to stay in forever, and others are definitely disturbing and trying to warn me about something. I think the process is fascinating. When I first wake up, I am still half in the dream and it’s so vivid that I think I’ll never forget the details. 5 minutes later, most of it is gone.
I love how consciously you’re pursuing this pay-attention thing Margaret. I like to think there will be many happy surprises you’ll find.
Ohhhh I love that quote and the pink in the stone and background is just beautiful.
It’s lovely isn’t it?
Your dreams sound amazing – much more interesting than mine, which last night consisted mostly of me being in a house I had seen on Youtube.
Beautiful stone. Soothing to look at, so I suspect lovely to hold too.
Tasha
Tasha’s Thinkings – Ghost Stories
Oh I do love the shapes our dreams can take!
The stone is most definitely a delight to hold – a nice dose of serenity.
I have never dreamed in Latin, which isn’t surprising because I never studied Latin. I do have dreams that seem like reality. And I do think that there is real in them. Perhaps on another level than everyday life. I used to fly a lot in my dreams, but don’t so much any more.
Your stone is beautiful.
Dreams are curious things, and always worth a ponder in my mind. Thanks for stopping by Kristin.
Thanks for commenting on my blog. I agree, magic is everywhere. Many people just forget to look. I love the lepidolite. I have made a necklace for myself with lepidolite beads, and a related subject will come up later in the month for the A to Z challenge. 🙂
How lovely about your necklace – I’m sure it’s a delight to wear. I’ll be looking forward to your posts.
Magic is everywhere, if only you pay attention to it.
I absolutely believe that Liz.
That is a great rock. And that’s amazing that you’re seeing other versions of you. Dreams are very powerful.
(What does “Warning: A non-numeric value encountered in /home/debor751/public_html/wp-content/themes/Builder/lib/builder-core/lib/layout-engine/modules/class-layout-module.php on line 499” mean? It’s the heading of your blog. Guess this is what caught my eye…)
J Lenni Dorner~ Co-host of the #AtoZchallenge, Debut Author Interviewer, Reference& Speculative Fiction Author
Dreams can be powerful indeed, and I always look forward to what my sleep will bring.
I’m smiling/not smiling that the error message across the top of my page is what caught your attention. Sigh. It’s something my website guru needs to fix, and so in the meantime we’ll all have an opportunity to test our patience.
Hi Deborah – love this … I rarely dream and most certainly not in Latin or Greek – but my brain is by default conspicuously always on the look out for things … and I always seem to link the synapses of various subjects … that I note across the various disciplines. It makes it difficult to concentrate sometimes!
Love the stone – fascinating … cheers Hilary
I, too, am a “connector” Hilary, and I clearly recognize that in you. I’ve never thought of it in terms of making it difficult to concentrate, but I often think I have ten million more ideas and projects I want to pursue than I’ll ever have time to get to. So in the end, I think we’re talking about the same thing.
Someone posted lovely photos of our bluebells which carpet England’s grounds at the moment … and so as I ‘conspicioed’ them – thought that ‘dreams of bluebells’ would be a good collective noun for that flower …?! Cheers Hilary
Lovely image Hilary, and you know how much I delight in wonderful collective nouns. “Dreams” of bluebells is perfect!
A dove is nesting on my windowsill (and there’s birdpoop too) – that feels like magic to me right now.
Sadly I hardly ever remember my dreams, and when I do they’re all kind of mundane stuff mostly. Conspicio must be the root word for conspicuous. I learn such a lot from each of your A-Zs!
How lovely about the dove. I’m noticing a pair of mourning doves keep checking out my not-yet-leafed-nor-blooming lilac bushes, and am wondering if their considering it for nesting as well.
Conspicio is indeed the root for conspicuous.
I often have really vivid dreams. I should probably keep a dream journal or something because I forget most of them pretty quickly
Debbie
I’ve always found keeping a dream journal a fun and useful thing. Wishing you lots of good dreams.
I used to have a lot of dreams, now they seem to be guests that visit not so often. Loved this line of yours “these nightly tickets to the best theatre ever”… I started missing my dreams after reading your posts. But I know mine haven’t forsaken me though, because the last time I had a huge fight with someone dear, I dreamt 3 nights in a row of that person which eventually led to a healing and peace.
A perfect example of how powerful dreams can be! I love hearing that.
You have a much better dream-life than I. Mine are usually not fun or dance filled but rather the opposite. Much prefer it when I don’t dream.
Returning your A-Z visit =)
AJ Blythe
Then I wish for you nights of restful and restorative dreamless sleep.