Moments after laying my head down, the familiar bolt of energy flutters from my head to my gut then back, leading my eyes to flash open despite knowing there is nothing to see. My fears aren’t visible, nevertheless more real than anything else I could possibly expect. Even an intruder at the foot of my bed is a threat with a known set of outcomes, death or no death, but it’s not my fault, because the intruder is a psychopath with a gun.
No, while that problem is more imminently dangerous, the problem keeping me awake at night is mine and completely avoidable. I have a stable job with a pretty decent paycheck. Sure, I make sacrifices, such as cooking at home and weekend vacations in the car rather than fancy beach resorts. These are acceptable sacrifices millions of families make in exchange for the security that every two weeks the same dollar amount, to the penny, gets deposited into their bank account.
Beautifully, predictably tolerable, if I could only accept this fate.
This same brain keeping me up tonight was previously constructing the life I want to live, including the bridge on how to get there. I’ve imagined changing the world, while earning enough money to comfortably take that beach vacation if I desire, thanks to my best selling book. My name is synonymous with advocacy efforts I hold as tight as my breath. Success is tangible, yet not guaranteed, leaving nebulous outcomes, including failure, as frightening as that sounds.
Ironically it’s my dreams keeping me awake at night.
Pingback: Dreams II – Enthusiastically You