I’ve been having some wild dreams lately.

In one, I was in jail and somehow found a way to escape—only to go home and start cleaning the yard. Not because anyone was chasing me. Apparently, even after achieving freedom, dream-me still needed to make sure the yard work got done.

I woke up smiling, but the dream also felt a little too accurate.

Which brings me, oddly enough, to bridges.

I recently joined a month-long online art camp—midway through the journey, because that's just how I roll. Each week, we receive a prompt and are invited to respond by writing, illustrating, or creating something from it.

Give me even an ounce of social pressure and an opportunity to share, and suddenly I’m all in. You know I love a good share.

This week’s invitation was to write or draw about a bridge we’ve crossed—maybe once, or perhaps many times.

At first, I wasn’t sure which bridge I wanted to explore. Some feel too personal to share. Others I’m still standing in the middle of, without any idea what is waiting on the other side.

But I started thinking about the bridges I crossed when I was younger.

I grew up in an apartment in the city, but I also spent time in suburban spaces where houses, manicured lawns, and swimming pools seemed to be the norm. I learned early that people could live very different lives within a relatively short distance of one another. Moving between those worlds made me aware of social class, belonging, and the subtle ways we adjust ourselves depending on where we are.

There wasn’t one dramatic moment when I crossed that bridge. I crossed it repeatedly.

Maybe that’s true of many of the bridges in our lives. They aren’t always a clear passage from one place to another. Sometimes we move back and forth between different roles, relationships, expectations, and versions of ourselves.

Lately, I feel as though I’m crossing several bridges at once—thinking about how I want to show up for my family, what I want from my work, and who I want to be in this next season of my life. I don’t have a tidy revelation from the other side. I’m still crossing.

Maybe the bridge itself is enough for now.

📝 Your Writing Bravely™ Prompt

What bridge have you crossed once—or found yourself crossing again and again? You might write about it, draw it, or simply notice where you are standing today.

If something comes to mind, hit reply and tell me. You know I love a good share.

Want more writing prompts? Download a free sample of the Writing Through Grief and Loss Journal to get IFS journal prompts.

From somewhere in the middle,

Adina

P.S. If this prompt makes you wish you had more uninterrupted time to write and reflect, that’s exactly what we’re creating at Writing Bravely™ on September 19. You can find the details here.​

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