Why Does My Life Feel Like "Waiting for Godot?"

What am I waiting for?

I have this feeling of waiting. Do you feel it? Waiting for life to finally happen. Am I not alive? Why do I feel like I am waiting?

I had a dream.


I dreamed that I was in between two brick walls, parallel, on either side of me, and very close together. There was barely enough room to walk through without brushing both shoulders on either wall. I was boxing a woman, and the woman was me. We were backing down the alley made by the walls, and her hands were bleeding from the blows she gave me, because they were scraping the walls. I asked her if we should stop, because of the blood, and she said, "No, we must continue!" and threw another punch. I wanted to stop: She was bleeding; I was tired.

When the walls stopped, I turned. The sparing was finished. We were standing in a pool of water that opened into a wide tunnel. There were two lions: tall, golden, and they had human eyes. The woman, myself, turned to me, and said with serenity in her face and voice, "you know what to do," as she turned her palms out and walked toward the lions, and into the tunnel.

I knew that I needed to be brave, because she had been brave. The lions would sense my fear, fear they could not detect when she had passed, because she had no fear. I knew that I needed to get past them and into the tunnel, so I turned my palms out and tried to be serene. I walked toward the lions, and when I was six feet away from the closest one, he began to growl at me. I backed away. How could I pass? I was afraid.

1. I already know what to do.
2. I must acquire serenity.
3. Fear is the opposite of faith.

What a shame it would be, to always be standing on the cusp of something so epic, which you would enter, were you as you wish you would be, but never do, because of anxiety, doubt, fear. Let tragedy befall those who will, but not me. I cannot abide the taste of it.