This week, I've been thinking about all the ways in which the need to survive robs me of living my life. I spend so much brain power speaking on survival, what it looks like to survive, how to obtain the resources to survive, that I begin to forget that I can dream...
My dreams have begun to feel like these imaginary realms that I've made up in my mind, unattainable goals I play on repeat for a means of escape, another form of survival...
I'm tired of surviving, exhausted by it even...
but
I will say, every once in a while, I have an interaction, whether it be in passing conversation,
a meeting
driving home
in a song
that reminds me that my dreams have the potential to be more than that, they have the potential to become tangible, to live in my literal reality
and for these moments,
I am grateful