My family hails from a small but steeped in history country, Denmark, a country of fairytales and castles. Soft rolling hills, green pastures, 1000 year old cities. A country surrounded by bodies of water that cradle this now peaceful land like two gentle hands that meet at the tip top in a place called Skagen. The trip to Skagen is magical as you drive you through countrysides of soft rolling hills, and sand dunes that have a life of their own, that literally eat up the buildings of yesteryear. Creamy white sand reclaiming what man has made returning it to the elements from whence it came. A road trip we took many times through country dotted with architecture and structures from a time gone by. Structures of stone and metal, manors, and castles of grandeur, that for most people can only imagine seeing in their dreams. Dreams that bring to life stories, feelings, and thoughts of hope and the future, fairytales and castles, that’s what sexy this week.
As a child I was always taught to dream big, that I could do anything, that everything was within my grasp. As I grew older, that education somehow flipped, and the new lessons now became nightmares as I was told my dreams were unrealistic and I should focus on attainable goals. Goals not of my own, because my dreams couldn’t possibly amount to anything in the real world, they were just, and always would be, dreams.
I didn’t realize it then, but those trips to the country of my family’s origin and the obligatory trips to the castles and manors that dot the countryside of Denmark, would shape my desires to continue to dream, and dream big! In all honesty, I hated these trips, the ritual of my mother getting us ready to go, the journey to get there and then the self guided tours. The architecture bored me, the room decor was old and smelled, and the art, well just big and rather strange. Grande paintings of people I cared not about, still life’s that made no sense, and landscapes so huge the painted expanses scared me, but yet there it was…….
All this observation, unbeknownst to me, was working its way into my subconscious and embedding itself forever. The opulence, the grandeur, the realization that for me, fairytales can come true. To dream big and live it, whatever and however big that fairytale may be, to not let your dreams be defined as unrealistic by others, to be continually and forever inspired.
We know inspiration comes in many forms, and for me the castles and manors of yesteryear were a good place to start. To be in awe; the detailed artwork, explicit colours, opulent room decor, and extravagant architecture all woven into the tapestry of my imagination. To believe that dreams and fairytales can and do come true, to see if for real, smell it, touch it and taste it. To see what the minds of the big dreamers accomplished and created, and know that I could and can achieve that to, if I want to.
Maybe my mother had an ulterior motive on these ventures to inspire her children to dream big, a motive I realized long ago I am now more than grateful for, but maybe she didn’t. Maybe it was her way to inspire herself because the rest of the rest of the year she was looking after four brats in a mundane existence. Of course I know that’s not true, that was my childhood mind speaking. The truth of the matter is we kids were being inspired to dream big, to be continually and forever inspired, my mother was just planting the seeds. I just needed watering, and the garden grew.
I believe in fairytales, fantasy, and dreams coming true, and as children one thing is clear, we all read, or have had read to us fairytales, and as adults that seems to fade away. What am I suggesting? Pick up a book, read a story, or run through the halls of a fairytale castle and be inspired. Whatever your fairytale, fantasy, whatever it is that inspires you to let your gardens grow, just do it! Trust me, you’ll be happy you did!