Too Much Time, Much Dreaming.
These days I feel lost in my own thoughts. This is the state of our world today — lost in thought, lost among our own constructions of what we think life is supposed to be. I find that my nighttime fantasies begin to pour over into the day. As I walk down the street, taking in snippets of what I see scattered among yards and bushes, I see the movie of my own making playing on the back of my eyelids. I grow fond of the hypotheticals that I’m imagining as they unfold in silence. I excitedly hurry to my own bed because I want to extend these fleeting thoughts long past the time that the movie should’ve ended.
Sometimes I get so lost in the thoughts that I stop listening. I don’t understand the words being transmitted for me to hear. The attention span only holds for so long and then the mind starts to wander across the open field of my fantastical imagination. Creativity speaks to me from the places that I wish to go and see, building up future dates and rewriting the past with what I think could have gone differently. I only want to relax into these fantasies more and more as they begin to cloud my vision, my reality becoming the dream in and of itself.
I float along in these states of inattentive wistfulness. I start to trip over sidewalks, to fumble as I spill dishwater onto the floor,and crash into corners with stubbed toes as if the wall hasn’t always been there. I come back into the moment when the world zooms in and I get clear on where I am. The smells, tastes, feelings, visions and sounds roar in, the thoughts dissipate in the heat of the moment and the nerves that dance with each touch of the world around me. I find my breath as the centering for my balance and my awareness. It is how I know that I’m here, coursing through me in a gentle rhythm.
The dreams are what inspire flow in my life, creating a elastic membrane between what is, what was, what will be and all that could be. My emotions spike with the excitement and thrill of these adventures playing out within me, imagining the endless possibilities of my life unfolding. Even when I tune into my heart, feeling the beating underneath my fingertips as I lay my hand across my ribcage, I can sense the pitter-patter of potential that each illumination of a dream brings up, brings out.
These invitations for adventure guide me towards unearthing the opportunities of my deepest desires. These mystic visions trickling in through my head tell tales of the emotions I wish to feel and the life that I want to lead. Creating realities out of my dreams, digging in the dirt to plant them as seeds so they might grow tall and mighty in the summer sun. I am inspired to feel the flow between these spaces of my life, balancing the internal with the external and surrendering to what happens.
I feel for the dreams as they curl around my head, waiting to dance in the moonlight after a full day’s productive energetic flow. They curve around my body, laying down in my hair, waiting as my breath becomes rhythmic and slow. And then, as they whisper in their greetings as the moon grows brighter, they come alive in colors and fantasies. A seance for the world’s potential, optimism for a better future undone with the loosening of strengths and ties. Their time to expand into the unknown widens through the evening and I rejoice in their song.