Are Dreams Our Prey?

Is life really about gathering, consuming, and striving to be the best or the most, the smartest or quickest?  

Do you ever get tired of it? 

“Stupid is as stupid does”, is Forest Gumps famous philosophy.  We are so smart!  Shouldn’t there be evidence of our genius in what we do?  Do we really believe what we say we do?  Do we really trust what we think is good?  Do we really rely on something we say is powerful?  

If we do… shouldn’t it be evident in our life?

 

I have observed otherwise.  Think about it.  Maybe a new saying should be, “Believing is as believing does.”  Isn’t that what we really hope we’ll see?  What if that something that seems too good to be true… this time was observable and real?

I’ve started to see dreams becoming real…

At one time I was desperate to be loved… known… adored.  It was a driving longing from deep within.  It shaded all the moments of my life.  Over time desperation to be respected presented itself as a Siamese twin to love.  These desires drove my life.  I have been controlled by them.  And, at times, slip into their grips.

Completely unaware of the futility of my pursuit, truly unaware of these resulting shadows cast over me, signs of starvation began to become noticeable.  The unattractive portions of my character, themselves became my new chains… chains locked by my own grasp, my perceived identity.  Tragically, I became convinced these fake chains where really me.  There was no longer any hope of being who I’d intuitively learned I was to be.  No longer would this impression stamped in me at my origin be believable… no more than a distant dream.  The identity meant for me… lost, disguised, defiled… a silly notion unsupported by reality, culture and who I’d become; this ravenous, blind, soon enraged… predator.

All hope was lost.  Life proven was life lived from what could be perceived… lonely, among many; touchable, but untouchable and then pointless.

In the final moment…
In the midst of the last gasp for oxygen…
the last pange of hunger.

 The question…

What if the identity once imagined was really the supposed reality?

YES.

One simple word whispered quietly through an abyss of illusion in the mind.  One YES, the loudest most pointed unmistakable whisper ever spoken.  One word carried all the power and reality of hope.  Finally, in one word… 

A beginning, unshakeable, impossible to disguise with doubt.

Have you heard it?

Can you remember the hints you used to hear, the dreams that used to form?  Can you remember the sensation tingling your spine as it rushed from your guts, up your back and out your fingertips, whoosh, like a shot!  When all the light of life was unmistakable to you; when the voice of your origin, the voice, was the loudest voice.

It’s still there you know.  

The whispers you once heard…
those dreams.

I’d been given a glimpse that I might recognize again once I’d lived our way.  To be heard again once living our way had ravaged me.  I, with no alternative, nothing to lose, began to believe that voice once again.  Misguided desperation was the spark.  I would Trust that distinct whisper one hint at a time.  I’ve followed it through all the learned distracting nuance of deceptive sounds, that strain the ear of my soul.  Aching for it’s truth, it’s sustenance.  It’s born a new desperation.  It proves itself and becomes louder and more distinct accompanying an added spattering of visual clues.

Flashes of light, and maybe color
everywhere,
but, first in the eyes of one other awakening from the stupor and drunkenness of life lived our way.

Lights bursting from the eyes of an empty vessel, a vessel hollowed, burned out, and ready for new life.  And now an overwhelming craving!  It’s a new time, a time filled with a new desperation to see more light; to see these unfamiliar burstings of awakening, the signals of life.  They are glimpses of an intended, designed identity.  Each an evidence of a familiar whisper recognized, vaguely remembered if at all; a new beginning, joining me in becoming that dream.  Dreaming together, listening together, trusting together.  Believing the whispers together.

I am desperate to see the lights come on!  The heads jerk and eyes search as they think they may have heard it again.  It’s an addiction.

Have you heard the whisper?