Dreaming of Classics

Last night, I dreamt I was in a library, filled to the ceiling with classic books. The only way I could leave the library, was to finish every single book. When I woke, this dream seemed to stick in my mind as I went about my morning. I tried to find the deeper meaning, but could not formulate a clear opinion on what this dream was supposed to tell me. For some, this would be a nightmare dilemma, for others, a fantasy. After breakfast, I finally went to my book collection and pulled out The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Dreams are not supposed to be taken as literal, but refreshing my brain on twentieth-century literature can not hurt me. The best seller list seems to dictate what is worth reading, but what happens to the books that never make the list? What happens to the classics that sit with dust covered bindings? Maybe my dream was a metaphor for life. As we chase all that is new, enhanced and shiny, do we loose sight of the old, reliable, and tested? As time changes, what is valued evolves as well. Now is the time to take inventory on what we want to help shape our lives. What materials from this Earth will we use to help us create our future? I do not think I will stop reading what is on the best sellers list, for I cannot always live in the past, but I can take turns with new and old...respect the beauty, wisdom and knowledge in both.