To sleep, perchance to dream

October 22, 2012 § Leave a comment

I think that when I harbor unsettled worries, my brain sometimes hopes that by foregoing sleep during the night these worries will somehow resolve themselves eight hours a day faster. Not quite how things actually work, O Soo Hoo.

I am so impatient. Shouldn’t I be enjoying the present, enjoying my youth, enjoying some decent rest and recovery? These days are ever fleeting and I will never experience them again. Always looking further forward I am, always itching to know what lies round the bend, always wanting to prepare. Why don’t I trust my ability to weather things as they come? Always fearful, always unsure, like the child I was, keeping all appendages strictly beneath the covers no matter how hot my blanket, because of my lack of complete certainty that nothing foul was after me from within my bedroom closets.

I can think of one thing right now that would get my nervous mind to hush, that always allows me to find relief and safety in the loving embrace of evening slumber, that allows me to, without fail, appreciate the moment for what it is. I miss it. Does it make me weak, that I cannot be unapologetically independent?

I suppose that is what dreams are: indulgences in the feelings of what isn’t there, of what we hope may someday materialize, through our own actions and values. Projections of the mind, assurances of what will come, because surely they will, for we desire them, and we will prove ourselves worthy. And as our eyelids droop, almost convinced, we can start to taste it, smell its scent, feel its breath and sweetness upon our skin, and can’t we live it? Can’t we call it home?

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You are currently reading To sleep, perchance to dream at On the road to Marathon No. 1.

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