Actuality. Imagination. Dreams.

Directly between the Empire of Actuality, and the Nation of Imagination, sits the Republic of Dreams. We’re all familiar with the place: A land where our desires and aspirations perform the dance of possibility. Our expectations flutter in the breeze of faith. And the sun—always shining—smiles down from above. Throughout the Republic; hope emanates.

Every one of us has an internal compass guiding us there—and the lure to go is substantial. Some visit it regularly and enjoy all it has to offer. Yet, amazingly, others often get lost—or just give up—along the way. Maybe it’s because our time in the Empire of Actuality can make us so weary, the journey seems beyond reach. Or perhaps the dividing line between the Republic of Dreams and the Nation of Imagination gets too blurred and we can no longer differentiate. It’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins; our dreams read more like fiction.

Despite the barriers that prevent us from going, we still possess the ability to make the trip any time we’d like. It’s that simple. It’s never too late to have a new dream, or to pursue an old one. So it goes for you; and so it goes for me. I say that more for my own benefit than yours, because for a long time I wasn’t using my dream compass to its potential; which will never happen again. I’m in an era of awareness.

Now, I have this rather audacious dream. One that I haven’t mentioned to many people—maybe due to doubts about it happening. But maybe there’s a power in sharing it...

I’m hoping to compete in an Ultramarathon on all seven continents. In fact, not only do I want to run in some of the hardest races on earth, I’d like to reach my goal within the next few years.

But that’s not the most significant part of my dream. The challenge of it entices me, for sure, and traversing to some beautiful destinations will be great; BUT it’s really about making a difference. Hopefully my actions will inspire others to take action. And most of all I just want to help people. Raising money for charity, speaking to groups of kids, or adults, about my experiences—both running and cancer—will give me a sense of self worth. And isn’t that what it’s really all about?

Obviously it’s still a work in progress, and there’s no guarantee it will happen. I’m not going to let that stand it way my dream pursuit, though.

It must be borne in mind that the tragedy of life doesn’t lie in not reaching your goal. The tragedy lies in having no goal to reach.

It isn’t a calamity to die with dreams unfulfilled, but it is a calamity not to dream. It is not a disaster to be unable to capture your ideal, but it is a disaster to have no ideal to capture.

It is not a disgrace not to reach the stars, but it is a disgrace to have no stars to reach for. Not failure, but low aim is sin.

~Benjamin Elijah Mays

The Republic of Dreams: It’s a nice place to visit, but I want to live there. Everyone’s invited.

The Wolf Dream

Dear running diary; I have become a wolf.

Wolves are mythical creatures that have been held in reverence, or depicted as terrifying villains, through the millennia. And despite all their metaphorical references, they are simply a predatory animal trying to survive by using numbers and stealth to seek out prey. Their success, in part, comes from learning to exist in a hierarchical world where lesser wolves submit to dominant ones.

Or so says my subconscious.

Last February, two days post cancer surgery, my epidural was removed so I could be switched over to morphine for pain control. The drug, however, did more than that. It caused me to drift in and out of consciousness, before eventually falling into a trance like sleep and having the most vivid dream of my entire life. I can recall every single detail, in perfect clarity, as if it was real and happened only yesterday...

My morphine induced vision:

I was standing in a field of tall, thigh high grasses on the outskirts of some town. At my back were rows of houses bunched together like a bizarre militant Lego project... A.k.a. the suburbs.

The sun hung low in the sky and I knew I didn’t have many hours of daylight left. Yet, the pull of open land, lying endlessly stretched before me, was too strong. As I moved off, a small structure on the horizon caught my attention, it appeared to be a farm house.

The place reeled me in with bewitching power, and I suddenly I found myself at the end of the gravel laneway.  It wasn’t quite dark out, but not light, either—it was that brief, mystical period in between. With shadows and silhouettes dancing about, I slowly and cautiously inched my way forward. On my left was a tall wooden fence that stood eight or nine feet tall—the boards so close together that it created a wall. On my right hand side, touching the edge of the driveway was the old siding covered home.

The effect of the fence and house felt like being in a tunnel; and it was further emphasized by a dilapidated free standing garage directly in front of me. It was here that I had my wolf encounter. A huge, menacing looking animal with the hair on its upper back raised, its intense yellow eyes locked on me as it crept onto the driveway from behind the house.

We stood there, face to face, for what seemed like an eternity. I was frightened, but I knew it would be a bad decision to run. My feelings of vulnerability, however, seemed to hang heavy in the air. Smelling it as an opportunity, it attacked.

The wolf was on me—its large K9’s trying to close on my jugular—so fast that I barely had time to react. At the very last instant I managed to turn my body and raise my arm just enough for it to bite down into my right shoulder. The pain was excruciating, yet with my free arm, and using its forward momentum, was able to shove free. And then...

And then I woke up. Only, I was still mid-wolf-throw when I did, so continued to roll to my side while flailing my arm, which then smashed into an array of tubes and my I.V. pole. This seemed to snap me back to reality; it’s also when I noticed an intense pain in my right shoulder... the same spot I’d just been bitten!

I later found out the pain was an after-effect of surgery, caused by pumping air into my body so they could operate. But the dream had left a profound impact; easily understood if you read it again, except replace the word wolf with cancer.

What I couldn’t comprehend at first, though, was why a wolf? I don’t have a deep seeded fear for them—not like I do for, say, bears. But that’s when it dawned on me.  I’m not supposed to be terrified. I’m supposed to see cancer for what it is; “...simply a predatory animal, trying to survive by using numbers and stealth to seek out prey.” And thus my reasoning for embracing my own inner wolf: It means I am stronger and I am dominant.  Attack if you must, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.