Last night was tremendously difficult but before I get into this story I just want to say ahead of time that there was beauty within the pain. I don't welcome trials or tribulations readily but when they begin I understand that I need to fight, to survive. Late one evening I was upstairs washing the dishes and my wife was frustrated and she needed someone to talk to. She felt angry about feeling alone, finances and a whole list of other things that are not worth mentioning. As she listed off all the things she was struggling with I began to feel helpless! I knew that most of the feelings she felt were because of my stroke and I began to crawl into my cocoon, my thoughts became lonely and isolated. I remember as a child falling asleep in my warm cozy bed and as my mind drifted off into another world I suddenly was taken to a dark wooden shack. The light ever so slightly pierced through the cracks and I could feel a sudden breeze. I walked over to the corner of the room and noticed a broken window with shutters swaying back and forth. I looked outside and then to my surprise the light quickly hid beneath the dark clouds. The winds began to grow stronger and I became fearful. I was worried that the wooden shack would not survive the onslaught of vicious winds and rainfall. I quickly tried to close the shutters and hide within the dark foreboding shadows. The winds came like a rushing tide, piercing every crack with a whistling sound of fear. I clenched my knees and cried in silence, though I am sure that my fears could be heard if the winds whispered.
After a brief time of wind torn anxiety and self doubt I mustered the courage to wait out the storm and not be afraid. I began to relax my grip both on my mental fear and on the storm that had passed me by. Now I know that this was just a dream but now as an adult I feel that dream left an imprint, a mark. My fears as a child were hidden within that old wooden shack and the winds of uncertainty. Well here I am once again facing that storm, hiding in a shack that once was a beautiful building with beautiful warm tender memories. The stroke took a lot of those memories away but I will no longer cringe under the shadows of fear and doubt!
As I slowly regained my senses I broke free from the cocoon and I simply stretched out and let my wings begin to fly. I was indeed free, not as what many would perceive freedom as but what I knew it was. I was and am no longer cringing under the winds of fear, instead I have learned to bend with the seasons of change and my wings have become stronger. I am a survivor and now it is time to fly, to be the hope and live the change. I cannot go back to the way I was and it would be silly to expect otherwise. A butterfly doesn't wish to be a caterpillar, he just learns to fly and not look back. So wherever my dreams will soar I will go even farther!
