And on this day, I dared myself to dream. Ironically my
printed tee inspired me to do what life consistently discouraged me to attempt.
I closed my eyes, I no longer sat on the air mattress and the sheets weren’t
stained of childhood memories. The lamp propped on the tote disappeared and my
remaining clothes that lay perfectly on the dusted carpet faded to black. The
beaming reflection in the mirror vanished and lights dimmed brightly. The air
became crisp and clean, the odor of failure subsided, and I inhaled
possibility.
I dreamed of better things than “Jeannie,” I was in a zone.
Not the fully functioning dysfunction of uncontrolled substance abuse or
intoxicating influence of self-apprehension. I was in my zone, a space not
easily broken, I was focused. There I sat on my big bed with a pen and tons of
loosed leafed paper. Note pads lay peacefully unfinished on the duvet, handwritten
reminders on hot pink sticky notes covered the walls; identity, purpose, drive
and faith illuminating through the ink. My happiness was tied up in my faith
and my faith was tangled in my trust, and my wholeness was wrapped in one gigantic
vision of purpose. I was whole, I needed to be complete. I was free, and I desired
to dream endlessly. My dream felt like forever, lost in time having given time
more time, I was free of distraction within me. And that day, I opened my eyes
and my dream was reality.
On that day I dreamed a dream worth sleeping in for. I
dreamed until my mind saw visions and my visions became hope and my hope turned
into faith and by faith I gained wisdom, I sought revelation and with revelation
came manifestation. I dreamed passionately on purpose!
On that day I dreamed my reality.
And on this day, I too dare you to dream.
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