Spinning

In my dream last night, I was a ballet dancer.

I entered the room - feet taped for spinning - and pirouetted to a slow, sweet song that I know now I invented. We had floor to ceiling windows and a different life in my dream. It was warm with no chance of snow.

Sometimes, when I'm in the phase where I'm sleeping more than spending the nights ticking off time in my head and hallucinating about work, I am treated to these visions that give me a different perspective of who I am and who I want to be. This has been happening a lot lately. I'm not sure if it is because my day life is so stressful, and so not where I thought I would be or if I'm about to undergo a renaissance of sorts and rebirth myself into a new life.

To say that I am changing again would be trite because I have never stopped changing, just had pockets of time that stalled. What is difficult to know is that during these phases where I thought I still had time to reinvent myself I lost minutes that seeped into hours that changed into days that melted into years.

And we all know how time passes - slowly in a blink of an eye. As days shift, I don't think about how I haven't been to Europe in 3 years or how the homeless man I saw on the beach in Ft. Lauderdale last week has a beautiful, sad perspective on the world. I think about meetings and deadlines and my next big mistake. I think about my vanity and how my house is a beautiful cold reflection of a life I'm trying to make perfect. In doing so, I have failed miserably.

At the end of the day, I want to be consumed with the thought that I'm on my way to somewhere divine - maybe to Greece or to make the perfect egg sandwich for my lover or to my alternate life where I take the time to spin like a ballet dancer.