Well, if my subconscious mind thinks so…
Last night I had one of those dreams that feels insanely real…and raw.
Here’s what went down: I walked into my high school, and realized that I hadn’t been going to classes for pretty much the whole year, and everyone was getting ready for final exams. I don’t know what I was doing instead of going to class, but I know that I didn’t feel sad about it – whatever I’d been doing was apparently much better. But I knew it was wrong that I’d missed school.
So, I’m going to my classes totally lost, I don’t even recognize my teachers, but all of my friends do – and it starts to hit me that I’m really screwed. I can’t even remember my locker combination. And when I finally got in, all the locker held were a few wadded up pieces of paper – no books, no help.
As I ran around, frantic, trying to figure out what I was going to do, I realized that if I could just figure out, or rather remember, the French alphabet, then I would be okay. I was desperately trying to find this elusive French alphabet – it was my only way out. I was trying to say the first few letters to my friends hoping they’d help, but they had no idea what I was talking about. My panic escalated torrentially as I realized that I was going to fail high school. The weight of that felt life ending.
And then the entire mood of the dream changed.
I’ve always been a very vivid dreamer. My dreams are like novels – long, winding, full of insane amounts of detail. They usually take about 10 minutes just to retell in the morning. This one was no different, and my most lucid detail from last night is when the dream shifted. I was walking to my seat in English (literally the same one from my Sophomore year), listening to everyone around me talk confidently, excitedly about the final. And suddenly, I realized that I didn’t really care. I knew I wasn’t going to graduate, but I couldn’t wrap my head around why that actually mattered. I was acutely aware of the fact that I was doing something different with my life now. And, I filled with calm.
Then the building started to explode and there were vampires and werewolves everywhere trying to save me (which allowed me to maintain my newly found good feelings), but that’s a whole ‘nother session on the couch post. And eventually, I woke up.
The point is that I was in a desperately bad situation where the only straw I had to cling to was saturated with failure. I felt totally lost and terrified. Then, I realized that I had taken a different direction, so the disaster no longer applied to me, I didn’t have to fit into that picture anymore – the tragic one. And suddenly all of those horrid and panicky feelings were gone. Poof. Vaporized.
Hmmm. When what we’re doing is so at odds with what’s going on around us, when what we truly want flows in the opposite direction of what we think we’re supposed to want – isn’t that what causes us distress? If we stop trying to fit our feet into our gloves, maybe it will stop being so damn uncomfortable.
Image credit: Dean Terry
Filed under How To, Myth or Reality, Writing | Tags: creative writing, following passion, life choices, passion, Writing | Comments (5)To throw or not to throw yourself under the bus, that is the question.
Yesterday, I went for an epic rollerblade. Eight miles, bright blue skies, forest all around me. And, ‘they’ (don’t know who they are, just know that I love them) had just come through to clear the path of debris – something they do on a monthly basis. So, I was cruisin’…to the point that I kind of stopped paying attention.
Around mile 4 I glided up a small hill and passed a guy walking – who just so happened to be beautiful – and I was busy being grateful for his smile and friendly ‘good morning’ when suddenly I realized that I had reached the top of the hill…and that it was the hill. The one with a treacherous and steep downhill on the other side.
I know this terrain well. My usual M.O. on this slope is to approach it at a snail’s pace, criss-cross in a horizontal fashion and get to its pine needle and dirt ‘gutter’ as soon as possible, where I then proceed to walk down the hill like the chicken that I am gracefully. But, alas, I wasn’t paying attention and I was going really fast. Really, really fast.
I had two choices:
- Go for it. Engage my core, tuck down, watch the pavement for rocks and sticks…and fly down the hill.
- Throw myself on the ground to immediately stop the madness.
I chose #2. In my defense, I did panic a little first. And then, I basically did my most unglamorous rendition of sliding into second base. I got a nasty raspberry with a side of road rash on my leg and a bruise on my tuchus, I gave myself tennis elbow somehow and this morning I woke up and felt like all of my bones were off-kilter – like someone hung my skeleton the wrong way on the hanger.
Anyway, I peeled myself off the pavement and started back to my car – lest you forget, I still had about 4 miles to go. This, not surprisingly, gave me plenty of time to over-analyze the hell out of my decision.
- Is this how I live my life?
- Am I so cynical that I assumed I was going down no matter what?
- Would I rather cause my own pain than let the world do it to me?
- Do I throw myself under the bus?
- Am I cutting myself off from opportunity?
- Do other people do this too?
And, of course, like the answer to all of my questions, there isn’t one. I’ve charged down ‘the hill’ at top speed more times than I can count – hair flying behind me and screaming, ‘WOOHOO!’ all the way down. But, like we’ve just seen, I’ve also hopped off the trail or taken my own dive, consequently not putting myself at risk – not only of failure, but also of wild success.
Sometimes flying down the hill gleans brilliant results, sometimes huge mistakes. Sometimes I can’t believe I dropped out and missed an opportunity, sometimes I praise my intuition and near escape.
There’s ‘self-preservation’ and there’s ‘self-sabotage’ – and there’s a marked difference and a place and time for each. One of the secrets of life is being able to tell the difference. Can you?
Image credit: The Rocketeer
Filed under How To | Tags: copywriting, ghostwriting, Julie Roads, life choices, marketing writer, Writing, Writing Roads | Comments (6)
