Showing posts from September, 2017

I am an Olympian

I deeply believe, to a point, that hidden memories can sometimes be crucial to good mental health. Perhaps the brain shuts down to protect you from the good, bad and ugly. Or, maybe not.  When a memory erupts through our consciousness - a period of quiet focus follows with either pain, delight, tears or a smile. As a child, my dream was to be an Olympian – I ran barefoot through the school yard … fast. I entered races, ran the track at the local community college, and was tireless. But, alas, a “true” Olympic caliber runner would be able to circle me at least twice and still easily beat my time, but I could dream. No one could take away my dream, except for me. Years passed with an occasional heart tug at how quickly my goal of the Olympics was extinguished, perhaps through lack of support, environmental or monetary issues, or my own abilities. But, I did think about what my life would have been like as an Olympian and figuratively kicked myself for not working more diligently to