I roll over to grab my phone. It’s not my favorite thing to do, so I chastise myself for it again. I leave it where it is and consider my dreams. Where was I? What was I doing?
I close my eyes and try to remember. I piece what I can back together. I was running. Running so fast, so free. There was no effort, and when I pushed harder, it got easier. I ran everywhere. Across town and back, to the next town and back. Free. Agile. My body had no limits.
Every morning when I wake up, I feel like I’ve just come back from some other place. I don’t mean this in a mystical or spiritual sense, but my dream life is so rich that when I first wake up, I forget I wasn’t actually gone.
For a moment, I forget I have never run like that a day in my life.
For a moment, I want to go run.
But that’s as far as it goes.
Dreams teach me about thoughts or feelings I may or may not realize I have. About how I move through life, or where I may be heading. I have learned my personal symbolism, and most of the time, I can figure out what it is I am trying to tell myself.
The best teacher lives inside of me, but I find every reason to look elsewhere. Sometimes, I recognize my inner wisdom, but most of the time I choose to ask someone else.
Whether I vocalize the questions or not, I run around asking them. I run to social media for validation. I run to distractions for escape. I run to religious beliefs for hope. I run to anyone who will listen for reassurance. I run to work for money that I believe will give me peace, at last.
I’m tired of running, but run I do.
I want to run free like I did in my dream. Effortless movement, forward momentum that doesn’t feel dangerous, getting where I want to go as fast as I want to get there. Freedom and joy rushing through and around my body as I push forward through the wind.
I know what I have to do, yet I don’t do it.
I roll over and grab my phone.
Written 7.4.26
