Today I wrote for 15 minutes straight, no edits, no worries. I tried to cut out distractions and just write. I did my best not to stop and self-edit (I won’t lie, it happened… it’s in my nature). The questions that present themselves to you during this type of exercise are always interesting. This time I found myself asking, “How is it I got here and am I moving forward the way I want to be? What would make a perfect world for us all?”
I’m not sure I found an answer, but the question I was left with may surprise you…
15 Minute Stream of Consciousness
It’s the dream I had so long ago that haunts me. It nips at my heels like a hellhound, haunting my every action and fueling my every movement. I can’t shake it.
It’s the dream I never mentioned, the dream where pain and joy mix, where triumph prevails from the depths of darkness like a light shining through the cold night. The dream where blood mixes with wine.
I find myself thinking back on those times often. Better times maybe, but harder times still. I yearn for them. I’m smarter now and might protect myself.
But those are what made me. I’d be nothing like I am today without them. So I embrace them. Bury them, but hold them strong in my heart and let them fuel my fire.
It’s not easy having the carpet constantly pulled out from under your feet and that’s what makes so many succeed when their early life was marked by loss and suffering. Hard times in the country so they say.
I can’t imagine what it would be like to be sheltered and to have lived my life in a bubble. I can’t imagine the risks I wouldn’t take, the courage I wouldn’t have, and the people I could never be. I’d never wish an easy life on anyone.
Maybe that’s vain, naive, narcissistic even. But nothing good comes from a free ride. I’ve seen the people it makes. The waste, the rudeness, the fear to ever start and strive for more.
Sure, there are those on the other end that are sapped by circumstance. The hobos who expect a free lunch from a father they never had.
It’s the middle way that’s always best.
The struggle that comes from sorrow and strife. The passion ignited by the love of life and the hard stubbornness it takes to craft a better world.
Imagine if we could all live the life we wanted to. Imagine if we could shake the feeling sorry for ourselves or the safe comforts of the life we know. Imagine if we could throw away comfort for excitement.
And maybe I’m an optimist, maybe I’m a dreamer, but I believe we can. I believe if we’d only stop for a moment to stop thinking about that perfect life, if we’d only put one foot in front of the other, draw pen against paper and forget about the hurt in the happening, I believe we’d have the lives we all want, the lives we’ve all been dreaming of.
You see, a dream is active. It’s your mind in motion when your body stops to rest. It’s the doing and not the thinking that crafts a perfect life.
I’m working on mine. Are you working on yours?
P.S. It doesn't have to end like this
Between Pages is a newsletter for readers like you. Every month I'll send you some notes just like these from my latest read.
