Awoken

Red - eyed and still shaken, Sam lazily rubbed his eyes and reached for his phone to silence the insistent buzzing. His room was still dim, the first light of dawn barely peeking through the curtains.

The remnants of the dream clung to him like a fog—he could still see that haunting mirror reflecting not just his fears but also a flicker of resilience he rarely acknowledged.

For months now, his nights had been plagued by vivid dreams that seemed to carry the weight of his waking life's pressures. But this one had felt different.

There had been a clarity in that mirror, a starkness to what it revealed. It wasn't just an escape from reality; it felt like a confrontation with it.

Sam knew he couldn't linger in bed forever. He forced himself up, legs heavy, as if the emotional weight had translated into physical exhaustion.

His phone buzzed again, this time with notifications of missed messages and emails that had arrived during the night—yet more reminders of the demands he would soon face at work.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and sighed. He knew he had to get ready and head out, but something made him hesitate. In a rare moment of mindfulness, he opened the app on his phone—the one he had downloaded in a fleeting attempt to manage his stress.

Today, something was different. As he began his usual morning routine, his mind kept drifting back to the mirror in the dream, and he couldn't shake the feeling that it was trying to tell him something.

Maybe it was time to pay attention, to actually try to unravel the tangled mess of his thoughts and emotions.

Soon enough, he was out the door and heading down the street toward the subway station. The early morning rush was already in full swing, with cars honking and commuters bustling along the sidewalks.

As he continued his walk, he found himself passing a familiar coffee shop. He stopped for a moment, staring at the dark, reflective window, the polished glass reminding him of the mirror from his dream.

His own reflection stared back at him, but it wasn't exactly the same as it had been in the dream.

He was still tired, yes, and there was still that glimmer of stress in his eyes, but there was also something else there—perhaps a subtle determination, a hint of resolve that he hadn't noticed before.

The mirror in his dream had shown him his fears, but it had also revealed his resilience. It was as if it had been telling him that while the weight of his challenges was real, so too was his capacity to endure them.

Maybe he hadn't given himself enough credit. He had been so preoccupied with all the ways he thought he was falling short—at work, in relationships, in taking care of himself—that he had overlooked the fact that he was still standing, still pushing forward.

He wasn't defeated, even if it sometimes felt that way.

A subtle feeling of recognition washed over him, and he took a slow breath, grounding himself in the moment. He took his reflection in for just a beat longer, almost as if he were meeting himself for the first time in a long while.

He noticed the way the light spilled onto the sidewalk, casting long shadows that gradually shrank as the sun rose higher. He heard the distant sounds of birdsong mingling with the murmur of conversations as people hurried past him.

He arrived at the subway station and descended the steps, merging with the tide of people moving through the underground corridors.

The noise level rose as trains roared past, but the calmness from his walk stayed with him. He wasn't sure how long it would last—he knew the stress of the workday would likely creep in, as it always did—but now, he had a small reminder of his own strength.

It wasn't about trying to eliminate the pressures he faced but learning to navigate them, accepting that both struggle and resilience could coexist.

As he boarded the train and found a place to stand, Sam took one last deep breath, allowing himself to acknowledge the lingering echoes of his dream. The mirror hadn't been a warning or a symbol of defeat; it had been an invitation to see himself more clearly, to confront not just his fears but also the resilience that lay quietly beneath them. It was a reminder that even in moments of despair, there was always a part of him ready to rise again.

As the train rumbled forward, Sam held onto that thought. Maybe he couldn't change the demands that awaited him at work, but he could change how he faced them. And that realization, small as it was, felt like the beginning of something new.