Saturday, June 23, 2007

Requiem for a Dream

Years ago I used to have this recurring dream around a stairway. Sometimes I was being chased, sometimes I was following someone, sometimes I was just climbing to get somewhere I really wanted to be. But always the stairway (no one particular stairway) became more treacherous as I went along. The stairs would lie further and further apart or swing wildly underfoot or disappear altogether. The bannister ended as the steps themselves narrowed until they were almost flush with the wall. Sometimes there would be no landing between flights, and I would have to leap over Wile E. Coyote's worst nightmare to the next level. Perhaps these dreams birthed my now-conquered adult onset fear of heights.

Most often the stairs were anonymous to my waking mind. But way more than once, what are now MY steps starred in the nightmare: the steps I now ascend to my haven in the Tallest Tower. At the time, the thought of living here lay well outside the realm of possibility. Now, these steps bear me strongly, surely as they bore my ancestors.
Now, they carry me out into the world and back again into sanctuary.

In the dream, the scene often shifted while I was still stuck by lack of confidence in myself. "There's NO WAY I have the balance and agility and accuracy to scale this breaking, precarious path! NO WAY I can make the landing after I take the leap!"

When I defeat disbelief, I CAN scale the path. I CAN make the landing. I know that like everyone, I have abilities far beyond what I actually give myself credit for. More importantly, I also know I don't need to rely solely on my own strength.

Perhaps I haven't fully conquered the metaphorical monster. At least now it's named-- and somewhat tamed-- and the nightmare resides in the realm of memory.


  1. Wow, this is great stuff!! It amazes me to think of you as having any fear, as it has been your strength and head first, wall bashing drive that has motivated me to reach for goals I was always to fearfull to even dream about. The pedestal at the top of your stairs.

  2. The only true strength has known terror--and mortifying weakness. YOU of all people know the source of strength. i sure take no credit for any of it....

  3. It's not the source, for I truly know that none of my strength is my own. But, rather the inspiration. My muse I guess you could say.
    I know that our strength comes from the same source but what you choose to do with what you are given, that is my inspiration. "Choices"