I’ve posted this on two online writing communities for critiques.
I’ve jumped back into writing. It’s needed…you’ll soon find out why.
It’s pretty much my attempt at writing a chronicle of memoirs. Consecutive chapters will include entries from my dream journals.
My dream journals inform my path and purpose, yet I tried to live a double life of truth and lies to make things work for everyone.
Now that the gig is up, I am entrusted with the memories of the promise I made before my arrival, hoping that my forward motion in being honest and authentic with myself, is leading me in the right direction this time around.
About This Chapter
An introduction of what’s to come; a rough draft:
It was all lies.
I lived 27 years, 10 months, and 7 days of lies. The worst part of it all was that I lied not only to everyone around me, but to myself.
And then Life took it upon itself to break the façade for me – because I was so caught up in my story of lies that I no longer realized it from the truth.
I hadn’t relized it; all this time, I’d forgotten about the tools that would have freed me from my disillusion:
my Map and my Keys: Dreams.
Not the desires of the heart, or one’s passion, or even what brings one joy.
I’m referring to the realm that one lives in when one sleeps – the place where one’s subconscious communicates and interacts through imagery.
Your nighttime and daytime dreams.
That being the case, this is how I lived a short life of lies; the true part of me tried to find outlets, ways to embody what was being relayed to me in my dreams, while my other side, my self-image & personality, tried to adhere to the demands of the so-called ‘reality’.
I channeled my enthusiasm for my dreams into activities that provided the space for exploration: dance. Yet each time I tried to relay the importance of my dancing, I was always met with how it was important to have a backup plan; how dancing alone wouldn’t be enough to live a comfortable life; that I had to find a job and dance on the side. What was most infuriating about this was, people didn’t even understand the TYPE of dance I was referring to. It’s a ‘way’ of dance that doesn’t exist today, or yesterday.
It doesn’t exist at all. I have yet to share it.
They never got it.
I think we all hear something like that, in some form or another. The pain wasn’t in hearing this in its variety of flavors – it was in not being seen or heard for what I truly was; that my dreams truly did inform my path and purpose.
So, I created the façade, and lied to everyone and to myself – I can integrate the two, and fulfill both my obligations to society AND to my dreams…my Self.
I was wrong.
Life sent a wake-up call in the form of sickness and confusion, shattering the foundation that supported my beliefs – the ones I created for myself without the conditioning of cuture, society and family.
It was simple: I woke up.
And now, there is a slow burn from deep within me when I try to do things to make ends meet or recreate a modified version of how I lived and existed in the past. It’s the slow burn to truly be; to be authentic.
Really, I should know better. All I needed to do was keep my dream journals close, and believe in myself.
Believe in Me. I needed to believe in me.
So how do I move forward?
My dreams inform my path. How and What does that mean?
The confusion starts with a story I tried to write eight years ago, wrapped in symbolism and hidden messages: The Crystalline Sphere.
Yet, the entries began 11 years ago…three years prior to the creation of the story.
So where does this story begin?