My Dreams Will Come In Time

“The only thing that will stop you from fulfilling your dreams is you.” Robert said with haughty authority as he gazed over at me.  "I read that somewhere." He added as if he thought I did not believe him.

I nodded.  It was true, I thought, but I did not feel like hearing it now... not now with this deadline hovering over me; chocking off any vein of creativity I had left.

He continued to mutter other gibberish as if he thought his words would help dislodge my slump.  I tuned him out and stared at the screen.  Closing my eyes, I forced myself into some form of relaxation, but that did not seem to work.

When I closed my laptop lid, he turned and looked at me quizzically.  His brow creased in confusion when I uttered, "I need to get out of here."

"Oh... yeah.... a walk will do wonders.  I'll come with..."

"No!" at my outburst, he turned from grabbing his jacket, eyes wide.  I blew out a breath and feigned a smile at him.  Trying again, I said in a gentler voice, "no, please. I'd just like to go on my own."

"Get a change of scenery." He said, almost like a question, but not.

I nodded.  I did not want to hear any more words.  I wanted blissful quiet.

I found it on the street... not quiet, per se, but a level of noise that swirled and cajoled, but did not entrap.  I felt freer within the anonymity of the world's blessed sounds.  There was a level of soothing, a kind of lulling that drew me forward and I let myself just walk.  My phone vibrated in my pocket and I chose to ignore it, but after a few persistent hums I pulled it out and set it to mute.  I did not want to hear anymore from Robert.  His advice, though well meaning, was dragging me under and I needed to swim without the extra hindrances he was doling out. 

I let my mind wander as I made my way along Young Street, into the belly of the evenings flash and frivolity.  I opened myself up to the possibilities that rippled around me.  I let my story go and let the world guide me with its own language of knowing.     

Lately, I had been putting too much pressure on myself to perform.  I had crafted myself into a corner that was no longer working and I was flailing at how to fix it.  Doubts were rising up and threatening to drown me, pulling me under as I fought a battle to resurface. 

I don't know how long I walked, but I found myself in a pub; going in to warm myself up as the evening's chill had deepened with the dark.  It pressed into my bones and I could feel my feet crying for some sort of relief. 

I made my way over to an open seat by the fireplace.  No one seemed to mind when I lowered myself into the leather and let my body soak in the heavenly heat.  My feet eased as I slumped back.

"What can I get you, miss?" a waitress asked in a lilt as she saddled up beside me.

"Oh.... what's good?" I asked letting the weariness seep out into my speech.

She gave a chuckle, "Looks like you been at it awhile... how 'bout an Irish coffee.  Warm you up without the blast to too much alcohol.... just enough to take off the chill."

I nodded, smiling my agreement and she wandered off towards the bar. 

I looked about me; people cavorting in jovial contentment.  Boisterous laughter and joy seemed to bubble up like effervesce.  My worries eased as my body settled in. 

Musicians returned to their instruments at a make shift stage across the room from me and it wasn't long before their Celtic charms spread like a balm over my soul.  I listened entranced, a smile playing at my lips.

"Your coffee, miss."  The waitress said dipping down to place it beside me.  I handed her my money and a healthy tip.  She'd even brought a few shortbread cookies to go with my drink. 

I sipped and felt soothed. 

When the musicians announced their last song, I packed myself up and waving to the waitress made my way back onto the street.  Bundling up, I pressed forward step after step towards home.  My story played in my mind, it seemed almost happy for the break.  I pulled out my phone and recorded the images that tumbled about my brain.  Capturing them like wispy butterflies dancing on the breeze. 

When I got home I was grateful that Robert had already gone to bed.  I hurried to my desk and let the ideas play about within my story as I wrote as quickly I could manage.

I realized as I drew the last sentence to a satisfying conclusion, that I had been trying to pressure and force my story into a form it did not want to go.  Easing back and opening to the world around me, freed me and it freed my muse as well and she was given wings.  She was free to play and dance and in her joviality; she returned and sparked my soul.  Together we crafted the story letting it flow where it desired to go.  Force and pressure fell away and were purged.  I realized that my dreams could be realized, but not forced.  With time and attention I would craft my way.  I would not let the pressure assuage me; I would open myself up and embrace my gifts.  I would give myself time to learn and grow.  I would give myself the freedom to create.  No longer would I pressure myself without healthy bouts of time to feed my creative muse.

I smiled at the work well done before me.  I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving as I rose and stretched in front of our balcony window.  The sky was beginning to paint heathery hues across the horizon.  I smiled again; knowing today was going to be a beautiful day. 


Word Count = 1021.

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Day 2 - Whose Line is it anyway?
Today's line is “The only thing that will stop you from fulfilling your dreams is you.” -Tom Bradley