I am always running. No, NOT that kind of running. The kind I used to do several years ago before I hurt my knee, took off a few weeks, and well…here I am 6 years later.
I’m talking about running from something, to something, for something, with something, because of something. Let me explain.
- Running from the failure, fear, or frustration.
- Running to the next meeting, milestone, or meal time.
- Running for the prize, promotion, prominence.
- Running with scissors, sacred information, or just plain running scared.
- Running because of the storm, deadline, or project that is chasing me…eluding me into thinking it can ever outrun, met, or completed.
Sometimes, I have a daydream. I fantasize about running in a crowd of people. They are all running towards something. Since there are so many people, I can’t see what I am running to. Only that if I stop running, I will neither reach my destination or survive because I’ll be trampled. There is no way out. So I run. Soon in my daydream, I begin to feel panicked and claustrophobic. I start frantically looking around from side to side. Out of breath, legs exhausted, arms flailing and then in a flash, I see in my peripheral a tiny cave-like opening (do you see it?).
It is on my right and it happens so quickly that I almost miss it. BUT, I DON’T. I don’t miss the opportunity. I dart out of the crowd, taking a sheer leap of faith so not to be trampled and I duck inside that small opening. It’s big enough for me to sit with my legs slightly bent. I am able to slightly lean back on a soft backing and rest my head. The noise of the crowd which was overwhelmingly loud just seconds before begins to slowly fade. Fade like the volume on a song. All I can hear is the slowing pace of my breathing…it’s rhythmic and soon I note my shoulders begin to drop just slightly. The vibration of my shirt begins to slow and the pace becomes manageable. I physically recognize the tension leave my body.
Then and only then do I feel a warm tingling sensation inside of me. With a slight burn, it reminds me that I am alive. A feeling of being enveloped with a blanket of freshly laundered cotton overcomes my spirit and I can almost smell the fragrance. As my body surrenders, I experience the victory of giving up the race, handing over the scissors, laying down the prize, taking off my watch, and letting the storm pass by.
No. More. Running.
THEN. Then, I wake up…out of my “daydream” into my reality. No more solitude, no more steadied breathing, no more fragrant freshly laundered cotton…
It’s gone. That small cave-like opening that appeared for a few moments is gone. Nothing more than a figment of my imagination. A dream. A hope. A moment in time when I yielded to a daydream in hopes of a breather….Then, I pick up my running shoes…the ones that have far too many miles on them to be effective or safe in which to run. I slide them on and lace them up. Taking an extra moment to double knot the frayed, faded shoestrings to ensure they will not be coming off ANYTIME soon.
The whole truth & nothing but,