Oblivious to the Obvious
There are moments in life when we are touched, or perhaps touchable. Instances when we open ourselves to our potential and receive glimpses of who we might be if we dared ourselves to dream. Images we crave, but hold to ransom against the pressures of our very existence. Fleetingly they pass us, dazzling in their brilliance, all too soon, gone. Our dream departed we are hollow in their wake, riddled with insecurity and distrust. Hopeful that what they portray might actually be achievable. Might represent something more than our very existence, which flounders in the aftermath of this revelation.
How should we act after such a moment? Do we ignore the anticipation that swathes us in its embrace. Do we silence the quiet voice of knowing. Allowing the murmur of doubt to drown it out as usual? Or do we open our eyes and our minds to our potential? Do we muster enough faith to believe in ourselves? Do we contemplate the possibility that the ambitions that reach from our very soul are designed to guide us. To provide us with a true North towards which we must point, in order to be who we really are.
If we unshackle ourselves from everything else that binds us and follow our course then our potential expands. We are conscious not oblivious. Our eyes are open and even the impossible is worthy of closer inspection.