From the other side

The field is as beautiful as you’ve ever seen. The grass, the greenest. The sky, the bluest. Even the clouds seem to have been impeccably, perfectly placed in the sky.
The lone tree in the middle of the field is a stone’s throw to the brook that runs alongside this exquisite field. The wind slightly ruffles the grass, coming down from the top of the hill.

I am there. Sitting at the bottom of the tree, facing the top of the hill. I am writing, or reading. I am escaping to relax. The wind slightly ruffles my pages, and I look up for a moment.

There is a woman walking towards me. She is beautiful. She is confident, and shows it in every step that she takes. Her long, flowing, curly hair is blown by the wind, but it does not phase her. She does not care, she is distinctly aware of her beauty. Behind her follow her two small children, though they do not get close enough to me to see them. Her husband is sitting in their car that brought them here, at the top of the hill.
I wonder how she found this place, how she found me.

Her confidence flows from her, almost as bright as the sun. For a minute, she is all I see. She is wearing a suit, caring books, or a notebook, I cannot tell. Her style is one in her own, and it seems to heighten her beauty. She knows who she is, and somehow I know she makes no apologies for that.

She continues her path straight towards me, and as she gets closer I can see who she is.

She is me. She is my full-potential self.

I try to talk to my Full-Potential self, try and ask her why she’s here, what she’s doing. She does not answer.

She looks at me, with compassion, and kindness, and a full knowledge of who I am, where I’m at, and why I’m here, in this place of peace.

She says nothing, but I can see that her life is balanced with all of the things she ever dreamed of. The first thing that I can see is that she is capable, capable of anything she wants. I can tell she is successful, though she doesn’t tell me how or in what way. She is intelligent. She has made it, and is here from the other side of that journey.

Then it becomes clear, this is why she’s here. She is in my place of retreat, the one I invented in my mind for only one purpose: To tell me something.

She starts to open her mouth, and with such confidence she repeats the words over and over again.

“You can do this.” Four words that mean so much more. Her life seems perfect, her life is my dream. Her life, and her inner self is what I strive for, struggle for, and often lose sight of.

This is why she’s here. You can do this. Over and over. Don’t lose sight, don’t lose hope, don’t give up, it’s all worth it. You can be this, you can have this, it’s not impossible.

I feel myself start to swell with such joy, with such hope, with such strength I didn’t know existed within me. I start to cry. I start to talk, but no words come out. My voice isn’t needed, she knows everything about me, everything I would say.

In that moment, I am connected to her. We are one, we are the same, I am her. She gives me a knowing nod that tells me she knows of my worries, she knows of my fears and struggles. And then she gracefully turns around. She walks back to her small children, grabs them by the hands, and as she fades away as quickly as she came, I realize the connection is still there. Even though she’s gone, I know I am still her. I am still capable, kind, intelligent, confident, and beautiful.

Then I wake to find the small apartment that I still need to clean, the boyfriend I’m still trying to get through college. But I see something that wasn’t there before. I see a path to our future. I see and feel the hope emanating from me, through the rest of the house.
And something is missing. The worry and fear that had almost overwhelmed me, was gone. The darkness that had existed inside of me, which I had transferred to the apartment is gone.
Suddenly, life doesn’t seem impossible, it seems inevitable. Suddenly my struggles seem as much a part of the journey as a pebble ingrained in the path.
Suddenly each day doesn’t seem so hard, it seems as just another step on that path.

And suddenly I don’t question whether we will get there, I am confident we will.

And I know I am still connected to her, still aware that any time I need to access her confidence, and gain hope from her when I am empty, I can. She is still me, and I am still her.