Sitting at the desk, staring out the window admiring the clear skies.
I am thinking about past and present dreams.
“I will cure the world of AIDS”, were the words that sprung from my mouth, aged nine. The words of innocence. My play tool was a stethoscope. It was my attraction. Creativity was my craving. It was my aspiration to impact those around me who were going through distress as well as to exhibit my artistry.
But then we get older and begin to see the hidden malevolence of the world that skirts corners. It creeps into our souls, this malevolence. It strips us of our being. And for a long while, it stripped me of mine.
We get tired and worn out, until one day, all we can do is hang our tools out to dry, to rust, to fade away.
If we are lucky, if we don’t lose ourselves to the world, we can rise up once more. If we are lucky.
But there must first come a point of recognition where we chose to let go of the weariness, of the burdens that have built up through the years. This recognition can be quite subtle.
A metaphor. An unreal, but yet real happening:
I am seated on a sofa. I am indoors. I am alone.
The TV is off. The music is not playing. The only sound being those of the neighboring environment.
I hear a creaking – a creaking disguised as words.
Or is it the other way around? Does it matter?
I look out the window and see a solitary clothes line swinging in its decayed form. Its rusty ends providing the creaking.
Something hangs on the line. It’s far away, but I can still see it.
I pull the line until the object is near enough to touch. I now see, they are the tools I hung out when I was nine, barley recognisable to anyone but me, the original visionary.
When I was nine, I had a dream, but now my dream has me.
It’s calling. It waited all these years before choosing to speak once more.
It speaks so low, I nearly missed it. “It is time to follow your dream.”
“But you are both so corroded. Time has destroyed you.”
“Time has only momentarily hidden us, but in time, you will learn to use us once more.”
And that is how I will describe my moment of cognizance.
Since then, I have allowed myself to dream again. To pursue where my heart leads.
I think of my next move as I sit at the desk, staring out the window admiring the…rain??? When did that start? Has it always been raining?