“*This can’t go on*”
This morning I dreamed I was at my shared desk in a dark office. Someone lit up a cigarette. So I stopped and looked for my tobacco and papers. I didn’t know where I’d put them.
Then I remembered my boss and colleagues would be back after the weekend, and I had not yet picked up the phone to contact a single sales prospect.
The dread of unmet obligation to achieve my sales target came back to hammer me down…
“This can’t go on. I will resign. I’ll go look for a new job in the morning.”
In stages, with a struggle like freeing myself from burial alive, I began to see it.
I gave up smoking in 1994.
I no longer work in an office. Not since 2010.
And at last I see. I am not awake, but dreaming it all.
The stresses and trauma involved in the 9 to 5 obligation to provide, to produce, to submit at any cost is the lot of millions.
I worked 42 years. I retired nine short years ago.
I remind myself daily how I used to gaze at the flocks of aerobatic pigeons through the office window.
I hear myself pledge that, after I retire, I would rejoice.
I would rejoice in my freedom to stare for a long time at pigeons in flight.
And so I do! I rejoice every single day and am thankful to have one more reason to be grateful I am alive.
Nightmares notwithstanding, love IS present EveryNow