“Nothing happens unless first we dream.” Carl Sandburg.
My son is named Joseph.
The day after he was born I came to the hospital to see him and his mum. He was fast asleep and dreaming. There he was, this little frail pink body in a cot, his eyes rolling around in his sockets as if there was a war going on in his head. Maybe there was a war going on, who knows?
It was clearly something stupendous.
His tiny hands were clenching and unclenching as if he was climbing a ladder to the stars.
At the time I was reading a book by Laurens van der Post which referred to the biblical figure of Joseph, the perennial dreamer whose dreams came true. I knew immediately that this was my son’s name.