and make the ordinary extraordinary


It’s more than a memory, you feel it, know it, you’re in it.
Suddenly you’re fleshing it out, all the roles, heroes and ghosts, ones you know and roles that hide, waiting.

I’m dreaming.
I’ve travelled back in time; a young boy stands before an old teacher.
He advises the boy “do battle with your critic; fear will only make you sick”.
Of course I’m the boy.
But I’m old and time has changed.
Now I’m the wise one.
The two stand bound by a mirror of time.
The one I’m looking for is me.

It’s the same for us all, it’s our journey home.
Our dreams take us to places we’ve not yet been, where we fear to go, but where we soon must tread.

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