I had carried it with me for longer than I could remember. I clung to it before I was even aware of what it was. Or what it might become. I was unaware of the potential danger. I guess, I needed it more than I knew.
For a long time I hid it away. I didn’t want the world to see. What might they think? But, it was always there. It was once all I had. So, somehow I befriended it. To whisper words of comfort late at night and feed it all it needed to grow. But protecting it was too much for me to bear alone. It almost killed me. It had become more than a metaphorical part of me, it now defined every decision I made and all I did.
So I showed you. I revealed it slowly, piece by piece. You listened and, little by little, learned of my secret too. And then you told me what to do. Gave me the answer I claimed I so desperately needed.
Let it go.
But there was something in this that felt like a betrayal. As much as I wanted to believe it might be better, to trust and find faith in your words, I was afraid. Of course I was.
How could I simply lose something that had meant so much for so long?
Once upon a time there was a little girl who lived in a dolls house. It was only big enough for her, which was fortunate because that was all she had. And anyway, at the time, it almost felt too much as she sought solace from the big bad world she had been roaming through, wild and free. She found a place for everything and everything in its place. And bit by bit, day by day, the chaos of the world around calmed and she learnt to tame herself too. And then she taught herself how to dream…
But what happens when you get everything you’ve ever dreamt of? Are you happy? Does something feel missing? Or do you dare to dream of more?
This week I stood inside a house: a dream house. A house that the little girl never imagined might be hers. A board outside read sold because that dream house might just be mine.
But dare I dream? Dare I let go of fear and trust in faith? Dare I let my imagination turn impossibilities into hopes and wishes and watch my heart soar?
Because dreams don’t always come true. You hear about it everyday.
I think about that little girl. How she felt. How she behaved. The lessons she taught herself. I remember.
I quietly whisper to my heart and hold on tightly to my hopes with faith…