An Escape from the Hell of Now
When I was 18, I went to a sales workshop with a girlfriend.
Lamest. Date. Ever. No wonder she left me.
After the session I went up to meet the trainer. I figured I would impress him with a few smart comments.
That was my game. I wanted to get validation from this "successful" guy to look important in front of this girl. (she would go on to become a doctor)
Instead of validation he offered serious questions about my plans for my business for the next 90 days.
He spoke to me like an adult. Until then people talked to me like I was a prodigy--not because of anything that I actually accomplished; because of the things I attempted.
I had crafted an image to mask with my self-hate and fear of being found out.
He was unimpressed/saw through my bullshit.
My response to his question about my plans included the alibi that I was "only 18". He corrected me: "You're not 'only 18' you're 'already 18'.
Our term on the planet is indefinite. Indefinite sounds like a long time. It may not be.
That venture fizzled. I didn't care about the product I was selling. I had only bought the dream.
Every time I buy a dream it turns into a nightmare.
Dreams warp time. They don't include the hours, days, years of struggle required to reach the land of promise.
In the dream I float past the frustration and isolation and doubt that attends my path.
Dreams are a source of hope; an escape from the hell of now.
As I seek shelter in dreams my work remains undone. Dreams are for when I don't have a move. Dreams are for when I have to wait.
But today there is no reason to wait, no reason to escape, only work to do.