Where Did The Dreams Go?

Last week, I took a much needed break from life.
From high pressure work situations, oppressive politics and deadlines that hung heavily over my neck. From people, expectations and demands. From mundane routines and, the monotony of everyday life as I knew it.
I retreated into a cocoon of seclusion - a womb which proved to be the perfect space for introspection and intense soul searching.

It was with a sense of foolish pride that I turned my eye inward.
And, why ever not?
In my mind's eye, I had arrived in the world....On my own steam.
Success was mine for the asking.
I was attractive, personable and intelligent.
I had a job I loved.
I had friends to die for.
I had won great battles in life.
People admired me...Envied me.
But as I retraced my steps to look back on the achievements of the past decade, I was not as proud or happy as I should have been. Or as I once had been.

I sensed lassitude in my life. And ennui.
It was as if the fire that once raged within, was about to be doused.
As if the edges on the square peg were being evened out, and therefore, I was fitting better into the round hole.

I realised, with dismay, that I did not seem to be the person I once was.
Where had the fire gone?
When had the stardust faded from my eyes?

There was a time when I had dared to dream. Had pursued dreams with a passion, that bordered on obsessiveness.
There was a time when there was adventure in my soul. And, I had reached for the moon, and the glittering stars in the dark velvet skies, caring little for convention and society.
I used to speak my mind. Pursue knowledge with a thirst that just refused to be slaked.
The voices of fear were quelled, before its ugly tentacles held my being in a vice grip.
My heart knew what was right.
My spirit was strong and I knew I had it in me to achieve all that I wanted from life.

But now, as my mind reeled out a list of achievements, my soul gurgled vociferous protests. I was no longer the spunky, gauche girl who had left home at 24 with her meagre belongings, in search of fame and glory under the bright city-lights.
I had grown. And achieved much.
But, there still was no escaping the truth.
Somewhere along the way, complacency had set in.
I had begun to dream less. To want less and, to fear more.
And, I hated it.

Was the very act of living was beating the fight out of me?
I wondered if my ability to dream and achieve was being impaired by a fear of loss. And, by errors of judgement, which instead of serving as lessons, were sapping my soul of its uniqueness.

As I pondered on, I knew the reasons did not matter.
For, it is in our rare moments of alone-ness that we realise what our souls really need. We realise what is true. And, what we are made of.
I needed to feel alive again. To be able to dream grandiose dreams. And, be unafraid once more.
I discovered that the fire had not gone out.
It flickered feebly, demanding to be stoked...And, fed.
All is not lost.