Reflections of melancholy

I'm right now reading Alice Munro's "too much happiness" and realise that she, with her short novels, are leading me in to a melancholic mood. The stories are, like I've heard before, well written and sharp in their own, a bit floating, way. The red thread that I can see from reading a few of them is the feeling that they leave me with, apart from the obvious theme of change in people's lives. 

With the help of this book and the music that I'm listening to, my thoughts are reflecting a conversation I've had in the weekend in regards to dreams. What are my dreams really? I sometimes find my self envy my friends that are having dreams to fight for, live for or only to visit and keep just as a dream. 

Before moving to Switzerland and changing my life completely, all my dreams were connected to work and career goals. Now I have realised that there are so much more to life than that. But my dreams have not found or taken their true shape yet and no one can help them but me, taking the time to reflect and find out. 

Philosophical reflections on a Sunday evening.