When I was a child I had a recurring dream of flight. It was so real. I wasn’t flying to escape bad guys or over candy colored dreamscapes. I was just levitating in the school yard, or sailing down the hall between my bedroom and kitchen. That’s what made it so believable.
I had the dream so often that it stuck with me into my waking hours, like a muscle memory. Sure I understood the laws of physics and the sheer ridiculousness of the notion. But there was that twilight part of my brain, somewhere between sleep and awake that knew the truth. It was all just a trick of the mind and given the right circumstances? I could fly.
It’s been years since I’ve had that dream and I really miss it.
Earlier this summer I wrote about all the reasons why I valued camp for my kids. I was so proud of my daughters for facing their fears, for trying new things and for broadening their own self definitions. It’s all too easy to define people, including yourself.
It made me take a look at how I have been defining myself and possibly not pushing myself. It made me wonder why I never have the flying dream anymore.
This summer was supposed to be about chasing dreams and making time to do some of the things I want to do most – writing a book, traveling, relaxing with my family. Instead I have been working harder than ever. In my sleep I am shackled, I am under the sea. I am struggling to swim to the surface. I cannot fly. I can barely breathe.
Life is too short to wait for your dreams to catch up with your reality. I’m no shrink but I decided what was in order for me was a good old fashioned camp style shake-up. So on my birthday I signed up for the Zip Line Eco tour on Catalina Island. The Catalina Express is free on your birthday and I just adore the island. I’m not even sure what it is about islands but I’m sure there is some deep and powerful psychology there as well. You leave the mainland. You cast off from the world, and sometimes from yourself.
So I surfaced on Catalina Island last week. I flew while awake. I faced my fear of heights and soared for real, for 3/4 of a mile from the mountains down to sea level.
The dream hasn’t come back but a definite sense of peace has. I remembered who I am again. That girl who can fly
Disclosure: No part of this post, or my birthday experience on Catalina was sponsored or promoted in any way. I love to visit Catalina Island & this may be a new birthday tradition.
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