I’m noticing the difference between what I say and what I do.
There’s a gap spaced – this wide – between the dreaming and the doing, the imagined and the actualized.
There’s power in this noticing and a certain freedom in the observation.
I would’ve thought there’d be judgement too, but there isn’t. No blame either.
There’s just me. And those dreams I can see but haven’t yet reached for.
We make time for what’s important to us.
Upstairs, three chests rise and fall, sleepwalking through their dreams while I sit here alone at the dining room table face to face with mine. It’s early. Dark. And quiet. The clock across the room reassures me:
There’s still time.
I’m tempted to explain. Offer excuses. But that’s only another way to delay. It’s another diversion away from what I say I want. And the clock’s still ticking away up there on the wall.
So here’s what I’m thinking: I choose.
Every single day. I choose the dream and the doing – or not.
Because that’s the thing. They’re two separate actions. Dreaming. Doing.
Maybe some dreams stay dreams living in place on the outskirts of day-to-day living. A dream meant only to delight, to savor. A moment of diversion from all the other doings in our lives..
A dream. The doing.
There’s time for both.