Swaying comfortingly on a hammock, hiding under the cloak of night sky, the hum of Sunday traffic anchors my thoughts from wondering further than I have the will to pull myself back from. Zoning in on my here & now; the memory of my today. The days lesson.
Once Upon just moping about the studio earlier, I struck up a conversation. A conversation that began with text book niceties; then strolled into a full fledged interaction until somewhere in the midst of it all, I misheard him.
“What was that about your baby being here?” I asked
“I said no such. . . besides we ended it” , he shares with me.
I express my empathetic sentiments of sympathy, then tactlessly allow the cynic in me to retort; “If there’s one thing I don’t miss, It’s having someone to miss.”
Perhaps I was hoping for an “Amen”, but instead I was crucified with the argument of being a coward (in far more polite words). His train of thoughts lead to our covering the notion of the things one misses out on, solely because of the fear of taking a risk. Emails you post pone sending, for no rational reason other than avoiding the rejection that could come from not receiving a reply. Chances we don’t take in fear of failure. Adding up the opportunities missed out on; applying the same principles to Love . . . suddenly it all amounted to loss.
“It’s awesome when it pays off. When it’s right & it works, that’s worth it” he preaches with much enthusiasm.
I know he’s right.
Just moments before our dialogue, I was behind the desk running the show solo. Me in studio alone, driving a show being broad cast to streams of listeners!? It takes knowing me intricately in order to overstand just how big a deal this is.
Fearful me would not have ever agreed to such; and even if she had, she would have flown below the radar & simply let track play after track without ever uttering a word. Sunday me on the other hand, spoke.
Spoke to the no one that is “everyone”, when effectively just talking to myself. I did it! Diving into this very easily avoidable deep-end, paid off! It didn’t hurt.
I know he’s right.
There I sat, being still & listening. I knew who it was.
Lesson noted & Tone set for the week ahead. . . Off I go on my journey home.
In my still state of mind I over hear two friends moseying ahead of me.
“I wonder where that plane’s flying to?” one asks the other.
“London”, she answers so convinced that it’s truth. “Do you think we’ll get to go altogether?” she proceeds to ask, as my brisk strides propel me past them.
“Hopefully.” Answers the friend with her gaze fixed on the plane soaring through a cloudless jo-hustleburg sky.
“Dreams Can come true”, I think encouragingly to myself. I stopped dreaming some time ago, when I gave up trying . But right then and there, I dared to dream for them. With them. . . that flicker of a dream tasted like my 1st breathe.
Tastes out of this world!!
Just then my smile jolts me from wonderland and my eye glances out the window of the moving taxi. My heart grins knowingly.
“Stop being so hard on yourself, Self” , chirps my heart to my ego. “Just yesterday you challenged yourself to walking from Craighall Park to here within an hour, and you made it in less. You chanced & you passed. We aren’t past our sell-by-date just yet.” I re-assure myself as Zoo Lake drifts out of site.
Fittingly, a poem by Tupac waltzes it’s way into this very conversation between me myself and this page. It ends , as I shall end this entry. . .
“But Tomorrow I see change
A chance to build anew.
Build on spirit intent of heart
And ideals based on truth.
And tomorrow I wake with second mind
And strong because of pride.
To know I fought with all my heart, to keep my dream alive”
18 March 2012