Awoken again, at 2:35 A.M., but not from hunger this time. Well, not that hunger anyway (we’ll get to that later).
Instead, this time I was awoken by a dream. Not a nightmare, a dream. A really, really good dream.
I saw myself. Or, more accurately, I saw who I could be.
I saw myself standing on a balcony, with an unashamed smile on my face, waving down to the me watching from below.
My hair was long, wavy and natural, my skin was clean, and I wore a snapback and tank top (okay, so I was dressed like a rapper wannabe, but I was confident). I was the most me, and the most beautiful, I have ever been.
I saw my future…if I want it. And by “want it” I mean if I dare to go after it.
This eating disorder isn’t going to get me there. Bowing down to anxious thoughts won’t get me there. Letting depression ride me like a wave won’t get me there. I have to take control–or do I?
Ah, control. The paradox of eating disorder recovery.
I’ve wrestled with this for years: do I need control, or do I need to go with the flow?
I’m still figuring it out, but right now this is what makes sense to me:
I can’t control what happens in life. I can’t, I won’t, and trying to will only create anxiety and dissatisfaction.
But I CAN control me, and how I respond to situations. I don’t have to be a master of circumstance, but I don’t have to play the victim, either.
I can be like Bugs Bunny. . .and game anything for my favor. 😉
Back to the dream.
This was more than a dream: it was a vision of what is possible, but I must be willing to take what I need in order to get there.
I have to be willing to honor my hunger.
I literally have to feed that spark I was talking about [read that one next].
It starts with physical hunger, but it’s a much deeper hunger, too: a hunger for life. A hunger for possibility. An insatiable curiosity. A ravenous appetite for human experience.
Why not follow this hunger and see what happens?
I am hungry, and there is a feast before me.
I am hungry, and I want to eat.
featured image via pixabay