I’m in a large recreation room, with chairs and couches grouped for chatting. A big picture window at one end of the room must have a large maple tree right on the other side of it, as the view out the window is of green leaves against the glass, the ones a few inches away and free to move blowing gently in the breeze. Anything else beyond the tree is totally blocked by the leaves and can’t be seen from in here. I am deeply moved by this beautiful scene. A smiling athletic-looking guy with a receding hairline comes in and sits down across from me, and I comment that I can’t believe there’s no one here looking at the leaves, tearing up a bit at how breath-taking the view is. Then I’m concerned that I may have offended the guy: he is here! I joke that he is a regular, here all the time. Now I start thinking that if I love looking at trees so much, I ought to be outside among them instead of in here, where I can only see about 6 inches farther than the window.
I wake up thinking of the parallel between looking at something from behind eyeglasses, walled away from it, and looking at something out the window. I’m struck how my idea of a beautiful view is something plastered against the window — no wide open spaces for this myope! This dream may be a nudge to keep pulling my attention farther away from the safe space nearby. The friendly guy slightly reminds me of the tennis teacher from my high school, who was friendly but wore glasses. The man in my dream did not wear glasses, having an open approachable face. I’m also thinking how depth is easier to see when I’m not looking through glass, and how rich the visual depth experience can be. I plan to keep savoring the visual beauty around me, as I doubt that I’ve reached the peak of how fulfilling it can be yet.