We called “growing up” by a different name.
We liked to think that we were waking up.
In those years when questions were all we had.
When everything shook with uncertainty.
And life’s speed felt shockingly fast, leaving no clear pictures.
Only the blur as it raced by.
We were waking up.
And the blur was really us being propelled from a sleepy dream-filled youth.
Being flung into the present.
So that the feeling of time flying was not so far off.
We were, in essence, flying from the birthplace of believing into this current life.
Where we’ll spend our time now looking back for the very things we dreamed about.
Contemplating being awake, in slumber, or in a dream, as not mere states of being, but parts we’ve played on life’s stages.