"Be a dreamer. If you don't know how to dream, you're dead." -- Jim Valvano
What feels like a lifetime only started six months ago.
I have spent much of the last few days looking back over those six months, trying to make sense of the choices and the chaos, trying to understand the losses.
I have spent much of the last few days looking back over 20 years that brought me to the point of the last six months, trying to identify the causes, trying to figure out what could have been done differently.
I've spent a lot of time looking at a landscape that screams loss and ruin. Carnage of dreams and hopes lie scattered everywhere. Pieces of broken hearts lie scattered.
And my chest hurts, and the tears fall, and I force myself out of bed because the weight of what has fallen apart is too heavy to carry. Isn't one supposed to sleep when it is dark? When one is in the dark and isn't sure what way is forward, isn't best to not move at all?
Is it really that dark? Is it so dark that paralysis is the answer?
Or is it only dark enough to say that one time is over but another is coming? Is it only dark enough that one can dream well?
Dream of a home filled with laughter, of hearts filled with joy, of feeling purposeful again.
Dream that someone's life is better because I'm here, that someone's day is better because I am part of it, that someone's pain is lessened because I infuse some bit of love.
Dream that a day will come when I start the day with anticipation, that I will walk out my door on an adventure, that breathing will feel normal again.
Is it so dark as to sleep so deeply that hope's presence cannot be felt? That dreams are so easily forgotten? That belief in the morning is forgotten? That life should seem to stop because so much of what filled life is not anymore?
It is not so dark that death should overcome, but only dark enough to allow one's mind to forget the previous time and present circumstances...and to dream...