I look out over the hills. Where is my help going to come from?
I remember when I was a child.
In my captivity, these memories fill my dreams.
They make me wonder where my wonder went.
Why do I see myself alone in the woods?
Why am I all alone standing on the brow of that hill?
Why am I overlooking the vast valleys of wilderness?
Even though there is a sense of risk, I still feel safe and serene in my solitude. Strength courses through my being. The fresh wind in my hair makes me feel alive and as free as the wind itself.
Often I would wander off alone. Fearless. Free.
Perhaps these dreams of my childhood freedom are beckoning me.
Perhaps they are calling me back to the innocence,
the fearlessness I once had.
Perhaps they are kind messengers calling me back to this freedom.
This must be true: if I dream about these qualities of innocence, confidence and fearlessness, then they must still reside within me. Somewhere. They are still my possessions. They are already mine.
But they have just been buried under years of neglect. They have been cluttered over with distractions. They have become entangled in things that demanded my attention and allegiance.
Right now they are deep within but emerging in my dreams. I must mine them and make them mine again.
All that is separating them from manifesting in my actual life is me opening my eyes. I will awaken and open my eyes.
I will find that hill and stand upon it again, just like that child.
If you’d like to own all of my Sophia drawings, which include the story behind each one, you can buy my book, The Liberation of Sophia here
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