Jump from the Sky

                

I went looking for a dreamer, so I climbed a ladder into the sky, because people had always told me, “Dreamers have their heads in the clouds”. But when I reached the sky I found no true dreamers. I found only those who were willing to pursue lofty things as long as it came easily, quickly, with little heartache or resistance or disappointment. There were no true dreamers there. So I left the sky.

But as I descended the ladder, I heard a violent scream. I looked up and saw a man falling from the sky above me. He plummeted toward me, growing larger and larger, so fast, so fast, and then whizzed past me, past every rung of the ladder, growing smaller and smaller, until he disappeared.

As quickly as I could, I scaled down and eventually found the fallen dreamer in a swamp, flat on his back. I ran to help him him, but before I could, he was already on his hands and knees, crawling through the bog, the mud. Leeches were attached to his face. Pellets of sweat rolled in a fleet down his neck. His fingernails--bulging with black sludge--began to pop from his skin. Yes, he was sloppy and worn, his breath ragged, but he was oh so very much alive.

I asked him if he was okay.

“Yes,” he said.

Then I asked him how it was that he fell from the sky.

"I didn't fall," he said. "I jumped."

Then I asked him why in the world he would do such a crazy thing.

“I want to be a dreamer,” he said. And he kept crawling.

Walking beside him, I stared at this strange sight, at his soiled profile, and asked him why he would come here to become a dreamer.

“Because,” he said, still moving on all fours, his breath rattling out from behind his teeth, “In the sky, my dreams lasted only until the odds grew dim. Once that happened, I wasn't willing to keep going. And my dream died. I let it die. I died. And then I realized that dreams aren't made in the sky. Dreams are made in the swamp. Dreamers don’t live with their head in the clouds, but rather with their hands in the mud. Dreamers crawl. Dreamers sweat. Dreamers pound through the sludge in order to bring to life the visions tumbling within their minds, their hearts.”

Then I dropped to my knees, and began crawling, dreaming beside him.