jueves, 28 de febrero de 2013

The end of February

I used to have a dream when I was a child. I dreamt that the objects were getting smaller, that the walls of the room were shrinking, making the effect of being in a very big place, and then everything got far, and it seemed even tinier. I used to be in the middle of the room, desperately looking around, trying to stop that change, that movement. And then I used to feel so insignificant. Normally I was not able to distinguish reality and dream. That is what happens with good fantasies.
That was the time I was stuck thinking that human beings are nothing and that the world is so big that I make no difference on it. I am somehow still on that point. I also used to worry a lot about money and work, I asked my mum almost every day what would happen if dad would lose his job. My mind, always lost in the future, making plans, trying to control everything, trying to avoid to live the present, because I was not so important for worth it. How could I survive to this? I guess because I didn’t realize how I was really meaning all these queries, because I was really a small child. And now I am a small adult, and I do mean them.
Sometimes I feel too old to run, often I feel too tired to continue, but I always feel too young to stop.
Most of times the fear of being running in the wrong direction is what stops us, but life is long, there is time enough for coming back, and there is no walked way without meaning and learning.
Coming back.
Getting old does not make you more important, growing up does not help you to find the sense. It’s not the years, but the steps, and who you are when you start to run, and who have you become when you arrive. Then, the new you will be wise enough to decide if that was a good decision, to plan again the future, and run away from that way, or keep walking in the same direction. Just, be sure you are not running in circles.
So, now my dreams are lightly different. I don’t need to sleep for being afraid of get trapped in any place, I don’t have to close my eyes for getting scared of the walls of life, but I dream with freedom, and wings, and wind pronounced as wine. I’ve been running alone through a completely different way, sometimes tired, sometimes full of energy, but I’ve kept running. Now I am in the end of February, and I should be ready for looking into the future with a new perspective, I should be looking forward to draw up a new plan. But I… I am just thinking on coming back.
Never feel too old to dream, never feel too tired to live, never feel too young to come back and fly.