Thought Gasp 4

I am wetting my mouth with a warm import that flies me above the ocean through clouds whose breath embrace possibilities…

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Trapped.

My biggest fear is the feeling of being trapped. I used to have this recurring nightmare where I am desperately trying to fly, my arms flailing about like a drowning child. The harder I stroked the more elevation I could get. However, it required a colossal amount of exertion for not much result. Meanwhile (and this is the worst bit), people were always trying to grip and snatch at my feet to keep me on the ground with them. They didn’t want to let me go and yet I needed to. I would kick and struggle harder, but they would pull me back down. That nightmare stopped a few years back (I think).

Attached to this dream is also a feeling of guilt. I think the guilt comes from having to detach from people or situations that no longer need me. I feel bad that I have to keep gently reminding them (and sometimes not so gently) that they don’t need me and their own path is as exciting and inspiring and easy as mine.

A sickening feeling, even now I find myself desperately trying to wiggle free from the suffocating toxicity of its memory.

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Sipping again, I notice a winged insect drowning in my red wine. I dip my finger to it and it climbs aboard and scales up across wrist and forearm through the foliage of my arm hairs. In essence, when the insect is offered help it instinctively helps itself, but does not know when to stop running, up and up, unthinking, just scuttling through the foliage… (Doesn’t it know it is dry enough to fly?)

So I give it a quick burst of my breath, then it realises its wings are dry and it flies…

I think most of us want to help others in need, but when we know it is time to move on it is our responsibility to initiate the move and allow others to fly alone.

I had that nightmare again last night.