Big Dreams and Gaping Holes

There's a feeling inside me like I can't write in fear of hurting someone, in fear that the truth won't be enough for someone or it will be too much for someone else. The truth is, there's a hole in my world and I'm staring down into it waiting for something to happen. It's as if I'm waiting to fall.

Going through life not falling, not letting go, seems like a terrible waste to me. I never used to fear letting go. As we get older and more worn with life it becomes increasingly difficult to trust the way we once did, with our eyes closed and arms outstretched.

The thing is, I began falling in love with my life and myself about a year ago. I purged my existence of things that were poisoning me and let go. I had big dreams and I followed those big dreams. Now what I'm left with is a gaping hole. I'm wondering where in the chaos of my beautiful world I let that love slip into the background. I'm wondering where my imagination went.

I used to build castles out of nothing. I used to string together beautiful ribbons of words as I looked at people. I used to climb mountains in my dreams. I guess a part of growing up and getting caught up in the business of living in reality is figuring out how to hold on to the things we used to do when all we had to do was just be. Back when our only job that day was dreaming a big dream and following it, that's when I came to life. The challenge today is not losing those moments regardless of what job I'm doing or who is standing next to me staring at the gaping hole.

It's as if I'm waiting for someone to fill it, the void. I'm almost certain at this point it's me who needs to fill it. I'm almost certain that's the answer I've been waiting to hear for my entire life. It doesn't matter who created the hole. It doesn't matter when it started or who picks up the shovel and digs it deeper. The point is, I'm the only one who can jump in and fill the void.

I'm afraid my words have more power than I would like right now. Perhaps I'm afraid by allowing my words to paint the page like I always have I'll figure out exactly what that hole is and what it means in my life. Perhaps, just maybe, I'm afraid of myself.

The void was created by everyone and no one in particular. Perhaps only when I learn to jump and make myself comfortable in that gaping hole in my life will it begin to be less of a hole and more of a home. Perhaps I'll realize that it's not so deep after all.