I was hidden
Whoa. That was intense. I’ve just awoken from a dream whereby my big self somehow stumbles upon my five-year old self playing enthusiastically with a group of kids. Yes, there I am, dressed in a dark green skivvy and ‘sensible’ brown cords (thanks mum!) looking happy and peaceful. So I call my little self over, take one tiny hand in mine and as I do I’m greeted by the warmest, most loving smile and a look not so much of recognition but of understanding.
I want to smile back, but I can’t so instead I say: ‘there will be many ups and downs along the way but never, ever give up’. And with that the smile disappears and my little self scampers back to the comfort of the unaffected while I’m left with a moment of pure epiphany; a sense that this feels like the last time my smile was so real. Such is life.
Note to self: BREATHE. Deeply. Enjoy the restorative powers of a lung full of oxygen. Or perhaps I just a need a hug. Whatever. Freud would know. He described dreams as the ‘royal road to the unconscious’ and suggested that they all somehow relate back to unresolved issues. Heck, perhaps it was the skivvy!? I knew at the time it was a mistake.
Anyway, I just take it all as a reminder to live more for the moment. As that wise sage Eleanor Roosevelt once said: “Yesterday is history; tomorrow is a mystery. But today is a gift. That’s why they call it the present”. Wise words indeed. Damn it. She may be onto something. [illustration by Tiffany Bozic]