I once had a dream about a teenage girl who embarked upon a perilous journey to the rooftop of an abandoned schoolhouse. She was a vision of delicate grace and steely determination, and not at all the type you’d expect to undertake such an adventure. Despite the danger posed by the crumbling brick walls and rusted metal fire escape, she was driven by a yearning to experience the breathtaking panorama of the world from above.
With each step, she was overcome by a sense of freedom, as if she were soaring above the mundane cares of the world. She was a bird, a spirit of the air, beholden to no one but herself. As she ascended, the young lady felt cool wind caressing her face, a reminder of the heights she had achieved. When she finally reached the roof, her heart raced with excitement as she gazed upon the vast expanse of the city below, the twinkling lights and bustling streets a testament to the boundless energy and vitality of humanity.
The young girl remained on the roof for what felt like an eternity, basking in the glory of the vista before her. The city, with its endless possibilities and untold stories, spread out in every direction, a tapestry of light and life. She was lost in thought, imagining the adventures that lay ahead, when a sudden gust of wind brought her back to reality.
As she eventually began her descent, the young girl was filled with a sense of satisfaction and wonder. She had dared to dream, to reach for something greater. Now, she’d been rewarded with an experience that would stay with her forever. From that day forward, she would never be content to simply gaze at the world from afar; she would strive to be a part of it, to live boldly and embrace the adventures that lay ahead.
Thus, the teenage girl emerged from the shadows of the abandoned schoolhouse, a transformed being, her heart full of hope and her spirit unbreakable. She was now a woman of daring and bravery, who had climbed to the rooftop of her world and discovered the true beauty and majesty of life.
Somehow, the entire time, I was like a fly on the wall, watching this feat unfold. Perhaps it was my ancestral spirits trying to tell me to be more daring. Sadly, I didn’t heed this advice for many years. But, maybe all those years I really was that girl, and that was who I was always meant to be.
But, despite making note of these events still lingering in my unconscious the next morning, I never bothered to make much more of them than writing a bad poem. So, this is a tribute to that girl who ascended to great and dangerous heights, just for the view.
2 thoughts on “Just For the View… From My Dream Journal”
When I was a young girl, I would often ascend to the rooftop of my parents house to attain solitude. This granted me the precious gift of privacy, a desirable attribute in a society that often intrudes upon personal space.
From this vantage point, I was afforded a unique and unobstructed perspective of the town below, enabling me to meticulously observe and contemplate the happenings of life, without the risk of being seen.
I’m terribly afraid of heights, so the girl in my dream was an avatar of mine somehow able to overcome that fear. But I have found myself at high vantage points at many times in my life, reminding me just how insignificant I am in the grand scheme, and yet, I am significant in my own way, just by recognizing my own smallness, that each of us have a much bigger impact on those around us than we realize. We are never actually alone, because in all those buildings in view, most of them are people who never see much past their own front door.
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