I am a Dreamer and I know it All to Well

It's good to know I have a heart.

But that heart gets me in trouble sometimes.  My heart tries to think for itself and dreams dreams that twirl me around in circles.  In disasters.  I'm breaking myself thinking things could be possible that are far out of reach.  I'm dreaming of situations that have no basis on reality.  And I'm breaking myself but can't really stop.

And Taylor doesn't help.

I'm a dreamer and perhaps that's all there is.  The name of this blog comes from a song that states just that.  "I am a dreamer, take me higher.  Open the sky up, start a fire.  I believe even if it's just a dream."

And some of my dreaming just gets me in trouble.  I dream outside the rationale.  But isn't that what dreaming is?  If dreaming were rational it wouldn't be dreaming?

So there are wings on my heart and it's as if one side is lopsidedly flying away from the other.  It's spinning in circles, chasing after these vaporous wishes.  This isn't a relationship.  The other side knows.  Part of me will stay and the other will try to leave only to find itself spinning in circles just above me.

If you can grab me gently and pull me in, please do.  I'm swimming in the atmosphere between wishes, dreams, lyrics, and something that almost smells like hope.  Toss me the life preserver, though I want my life to be more than preserved.  If you're going to catch me just to prolong my life, leave me be.  I want a life enhancer.  Always something new.  Not necessarily materially, but something new.

So I'm still swimming among the weeds.  Getting tangled and thinking they're pushing me along, but really they're holding me down from the waves that I'm meant to glide in on.

Memories as companions and Infatuations as dreams

I walked down familiar roads today.  It was like walking through a time capsule.  Like I could see the people and the places as they had been in my life.  Where did the time go?  I saw memories of waiting at the bus stop and not even knowing if it would come or if we had missed it already.  I saw my friends and I reaching for the deck of a skateboard in the storm drain.  I saw memories of people putting forth effort to make me into a man when I was already becoming one in my own way.  I didn't need it to be forced upon me.  Manhood would find me, even if it's not in the form of how society typically sees it.

I wondered if becoming an adult was learning to be afraid.  Growing up there was little to fear except what seems to be legitimate fear-causing experiences.  Now, some things frighten us in ways that we couldn't imagine growing up.  Things we weren't concerned about, or we didn't have to come across.  Fearing what others think or what will happen to us.  Where do these fears come from, are they from so many experiences?

It was quite relaxing to walk alongside my memories.  It's not something I can do where I live.  Or the memories that keep me company where I live now are so recent.  They don't share the same nostalgia as the memories that befriended me today.


And then later in the day was  a sudden infatuation.  From whence did this come?  It was quite unexpected and my heart thought it was love, though I'm trying not to believe it.  I somehow got 20 seconds of courage and something happened.  But now I've trapped myself in seeing what others allow for me to see.  This infatuation came quickly and I'm not sure why I fell so quick or with her today.  Had I ever even spoken to her directly?  I'm not sure.

I don't really know what to make of it.  I know from experience though that this isn't love.  Though my heart my try to convince me otherwise, I must listen to my mind this time.  If it's something to pursue, we'll see, but right now it's important not to dwell on it.  My heart has had a heyday, thinking of the possibilities but I can't let it convince me.

Perhaps more on either of these two particular events at a later date.  We'll see.

Something out of Nothing from Everything

I thought I needed to write but by now I've talked most of it out.  It seems Autumn is a time for words to fall from my head.  Or a time when I wish they would because there is so much building up inside.

But one thing that still remains in the vines tangled inside me is this: You'll carry me out of exile.  If I just stop squirming You'll pick me up.  You'll make the effort to find me where I am and carry me where I need to go.  I don't need to hear You in a song.  I don't need to see You in words that I write or say, or hear another say.  You'll speak when I'm listening with what looks to other ears like nothing is there.  You'll speak when I'm listening.

I need to slow down to a nothing.  A nothing that is not laziness.  A nothing that is not sloth.  A nothing where You reveal to me that You're everything and You're in it all.  I need to stop listening to the world.  The world isn't saying anything.  When I'm listening to nothing You can be there.  You're there in the nothing.  Not even a whisper of the wind, and You're there.

You're the everything that allows the nothing to be something.  And I think that's enough for now.

This slope is treacherous

How can I stop myself from thinking of you when I can't even start?  When there's a voice in my head that feels like more than a voice?  Does the deceiver live inside me?  And what does that mean for my hope?

Someone inside says "I know nobody loves me, but does anyone like me" and I know it's not true.  So where do I run?  I try to find a cure and am running out of options.  Am I the same, just different phases?  The moon still shines, right?  Can I be the new moon, but shining?

I only know One who makes all things new.  It works.  He knows everything there is to know about me and still makes me fresh.  He makes me brand new.

Still, whose arms are these squeezing my heart?  What can I do?  How can I release them.  I just want time to myself that isn't to myself.  I want time to be with others.  Unscheduled (or is it unstructured) time that is has joy pouring out of it.  I don't want to break so easily.  I don't want to fold where the creases aren't meant to be.  The creases that I've made myself.  It's gotten so much easier to fold there and I feel like if I keep doing that, I'll tear in two, or perhaps more.

Still, this love is without conditions.  What does that mean?  My brain can't wrap completely around that. Thanks be to God that it cannot though!  I don't know it all.  Far from it.

My life doesn't feel like it's based on no conditions.  Even for myself.  How can I love others if I don't love myself.  Though loving myself feels selfish.  So I don't know where to turn.  I envision myself on the ground with my hands over my head receiving the punishment due me.  Or perhaps I'm just there preparing for it and it never comes.  My punishment has been paid for but it's so hard to accept.  Why do I just sit there on the floor.  I look down to nothing but my knees and the darkness below.  Who will lift my head up?  How will these clouds be removed.

It's like I must be picked up.  I can't just stand up on my own.  I need a fishing pole to grab my neck.  Thinking it will be painful to even sit up, but perhaps it's necessary.  Don't pity me.  Don't talk me down.  I'm already there.  Don't talk me up either.  Especially if it's not sincere.  I think I need a couple days to put myself back together.  What happened to the garden inside me?  I've spoiled the soil and I don't know how I'll grow again, though I sense that I'm still growing.

Pick me apart if You must but please pick me back up.  At least I don't have to cite the words in my brain.