Baby Dreams and New Beginnings

Last night I had an interesting dream: I was at a table, with my arms out-stretched in front of me. I was picking up a new-born baby, though how I knew he was a new-born is beyond me. For that matter, how I knew he was a he is also unkown to me. But somehow I knew the wiggling bundle of life was a boy, and I knew he was mine. In my dream I picked him up--careful to support his head--and held him close to me. I took in the cap of silky black hair that covered his head; I watched with fascination as his chubby cheeks tested their new muscles--lips pursing, brow furrowing. It seemed to me that I could smell him--that pure, innocent smell that only babies have--and my heart surged. Just as I was thinking of his name (something biblical was coming to me), I woke up, but I haven't been able to get him off my mind all day. Even as I watched South Central High's basketball team stomp all over Fike High (Ashley's godson plays for Fike and we came out to support him) I couldn't help but think "Is that what (unnamed son) would grow up to look like?", and "Will he be athletic and graceful like these kids?" Turns out my paternal instincts were a bit misdirected. A couple of people have since informed me that dreams about babies symbolize a change or new beginning in the life of the dreamer. I guess the beginning of a new life in dream form represents the birth of a new form of me. Or at least a change that can lead to a new (and hopefully improved) version of myself. It might be as simple as a job change (some of you already know the story), or maybe it's the book idea that came to me in the middle of the night a week ago. Who knows. All I know is that the baby in that dream filled me with a sense of calm I haven't known in about a month. His calm, delicate twitches gave me a confidence that things will get better, things can begin again. The powdery, innocent smell of that new-born (no matter how imagined) soothed the ragged, jagged edges of my soul. Here's to new beginnings.