The Paw Print
There’s that moment where its late at night, later than you usually stay up, and there is no sign that you’ll be getting sleepy any time soon.
You feel like you’ve read the entire internet. Twice. In a desperate attempt to get sleepy you grab the book you’ve been trying to complete for the past month that has been sitting on your nightstand, only to discover even that can’t hold your attention long enough.
You push your laptop to the side of your bed, get up from underneath the covers and lay on the opposite end, dangling your head off out of frustration, sighing at the same time.
Eventually hanging from your bed turns to laying in every other direction and landing cattywampus in your last ditch in attempting to settle. And as you’re lying there, you get this rush of confidence, this adrenaline of adventure pulsating through every limb and crevice of your imagination.
You have the momentary taste of rebellion and the need to revolt from your current living situation. You write down these inspirations, you jot down plans, you figure out a solution, you have the epiphany that your entire life has been leading up to. But then you realize, you haven’t got the means to travel, the cut ties to just whisk away, the self assurance of succeeding, and this once familiar rush of confidence is now a constant crashing wave of defeat that continuously pounds reality, no matter how far you move away from the tide.
So you get back under the covers, pull them up to your chin, reach to turn off the light, take a glance at the now jumbled up scribbled papers that held your master plans and go into the darkness of your blackened filled room without a fight. Without another word. You finally sleep.
Those moments. That moment, is the real you. That’s who you are. I believe these eccentric and revolutionary experiences are our inner-self pulling us to go further with ourselves, to reach further, to be more. For those who do carpe diem and walk out the door, begin the road to find their true self. For those who wallow back to sleep, continue being the stranger they’ve grown accustom to.
But my only question is, how much longer can our mind and soul continue to jerk us out of bed to carpe diem until they too finally decide to wallow and go back to sleep, because they know you’ll never walk out the door.