Wednesday, July 06, 2005
To Dream the Dream
Wilsonian posted about her dreams...her goals. At the end she asked what we, her readers, would dream. The last several months I know the potential to dream is there, but I don't know what to do with the empty canvas. I'm an artist standing before the easel, no inspiration coming forthwith. The tools are present, yet the ideas vacant. Why?
I know the answer, for myself at least. The aches and pains of life knock the wind out of me, and little by little the unrealized dreams build a life of cynicism, disguised as reality. The human existence is difficult and fraught with disappointment. I won't cloak it for this post. I won't blame anyone. It's the way this frailty plays out.
I had dreams. Of being a good wife, most of all. That was my number one goal. Of going to Bible School for at least a year. Of hairdressing. Of banking. They were desires I had when I was 18 and carried them for many years. I performed all those functions, sometimes mediocre, some days horribly, somedays in excellence. I'm no longer a wife, and not working. These are results of situations, responses, choices.
I had other dreams, both for me as an individual and for my family. So many of my dreams became what I wanted for others or what they wanted for themselves and dreaming just for my sake became almost impossible. Besides, dreams rarely come true. I'm not blaming anyone - please don't get upset. In my world they didn't become reality.
As usual, I am fighting the urge to resolve the "negativity" in this blog by pointing out that over the years God has given me other things that I wouldn't have dreamed of...blessings not anticipated. See, I just said it. But I won't go on about that right now, because this is more about purging than resolving. Once I walk away from this keyboard I will remind myself of those surprises he has given me. Of the moments of joy that can't be imitated or planned.
Right now I want to take a moment to talk about why I have a hard time dreaming. Why my mind is so empty when I wonder what I would write with Biscotti's taglines. For now, I dream of the day I can dream. That will fulfill the most important one of all. To give myself permission. To allow hope and optimism to creep in, ever so slightly at first. To trust in it again, as when I was a child.
I know the answer, for myself at least. The aches and pains of life knock the wind out of me, and little by little the unrealized dreams build a life of cynicism, disguised as reality. The human existence is difficult and fraught with disappointment. I won't cloak it for this post. I won't blame anyone. It's the way this frailty plays out.
I had dreams. Of being a good wife, most of all. That was my number one goal. Of going to Bible School for at least a year. Of hairdressing. Of banking. They were desires I had when I was 18 and carried them for many years. I performed all those functions, sometimes mediocre, some days horribly, somedays in excellence. I'm no longer a wife, and not working. These are results of situations, responses, choices.
I had other dreams, both for me as an individual and for my family. So many of my dreams became what I wanted for others or what they wanted for themselves and dreaming just for my sake became almost impossible. Besides, dreams rarely come true. I'm not blaming anyone - please don't get upset. In my world they didn't become reality.
As usual, I am fighting the urge to resolve the "negativity" in this blog by pointing out that over the years God has given me other things that I wouldn't have dreamed of...blessings not anticipated. See, I just said it. But I won't go on about that right now, because this is more about purging than resolving. Once I walk away from this keyboard I will remind myself of those surprises he has given me. Of the moments of joy that can't be imitated or planned.
Right now I want to take a moment to talk about why I have a hard time dreaming. Why my mind is so empty when I wonder what I would write with Biscotti's taglines. For now, I dream of the day I can dream. That will fulfill the most important one of all. To give myself permission. To allow hope and optimism to creep in, ever so slightly at first. To trust in it again, as when I was a child.
// posted by Annette @ 2:47 p.m. 