The Terror of Inaction
What we can learn from my recurring nightmare.
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People's dreams are boring. Like taxes and death, it's one of life's irrefutable constants. Now let's discuss one of mine. It's a recurring nightmare I've had for longer than I know, but it represents something I couldn't put my finger on until recently.
At its core, the dream consists of two parts. Setting up to do something, then doing it. But here's the nightmare part: I can never get set up. The versions of this dream I remember most vividly are sports-related. I played hockey in high school, so in those dreams, I can't get my skates tied properly (or I forget some critical piece of equipment entirely) so I can never take the ice. In college I took up golf, so those dreams involved an inability to find steady ground on the first tee so no matter where I set the ball, I was never ready to swing the club. A few months ago, I logged a new entry after watching an entire weekend of NFL games: I was the kicker and couldn't find a spot to put the ball to kick off because there was a fence in the way and I had to keep moving it so the game could never start.
I don't tell anyone about my dreams because, as stated earlier, fewer things are duller to the listener, so I was content to keep these to myself until my final nap in the dirt. But the introduction of a new hobby this winter spawned yet another version of the dream. The setting changed, but the premise follows the same formula. I'm on a ski slope. One ski is already attached and the other ski is on the snow, awaiting the satisfying engagement of my other foot into its binding. Unfortunately, I can't get my stance and the placement of the ski in enough harmony to pull the trigger and thus, I can never get going.
I know nothing about the relevance of dreams and I lack the curiosity required to fix that, but this recent change of setting surprised me enough to take notice. I call these "nightmares", but they aren't scary in the traditional sense. But there is something terrifying about them. Because I could argue these failure-to-launch dreams, in all their forms, represent an injustice of the soul. In them, I'm Sisyphus, but instead of rolling a giant boulder up a hill for eternity, I'm forever stuck at the final step before an action takes place. If I could only find a place to stand, I could take the plunge.Â
There are things we know in our heart we can do and there are things we know in our heart we should do. We all have the potential to perform. To heed the call to adventure. To take action. And when we don't, a tiny part of the universe falls out of balance. These dreams are a reminder to always strike while the iron is hot. Because at some point, we'll have all the energy, motivation, and willingness to dance, but our old bones won't allow it.