I read the words on my new washi tape: “Daydream - Free Spirit”, the words repeating in an endless loop. I read them, smiled, and felt gravity tug at me ungently. It was in that moment that I first understood the strange connection in my mind between dreams and immobility.
In my mind, it seems, dreams have become synonymous with stillness. Not the stillness of peace, but the stillness of incapacity. I have made a virtue of immobility as a form of protection against the often overwhelming chaos of everyday life. My response to challenge has been to opt out, to withdraw. And so I have literally attracted immobility to myself.
As I thought of daydreaming this morning, my instant reaction was to think of food. Food and books and TV. Solitude, hunched over itself, protecting itself from the outside world. I thought of that even as I reached instead towards an aspirational yoga asana, as I struggled to hold some of my own weight in my arms. And I set myself a new goal, a new vision, one that involves bringing my dreams into my body and into my life.
In my mind, it seems, dreams have become synonymous with stillness. Not the stillness of peace, but the stillness of incapacity. I have made a virtue of immobility as a form of protection against the often overwhelming chaos of everyday life. My response to challenge has been to opt out, to withdraw. And so I have literally attracted immobility to myself.
As I thought of daydreaming this morning, my instant reaction was to think of food. Food and books and TV. Solitude, hunched over itself, protecting itself from the outside world. I thought of that even as I reached instead towards an aspirational yoga asana, as I struggled to hold some of my own weight in my arms. And I set myself a new goal, a new vision, one that involves bringing my dreams into my body and into my life.