Unwatered Childhood Dreams Part II
Occasionally I have flashbacks of my younger self, sitting on the floor of my childhood home, absentmindedly staring up, out of the window, into a vision my mind projected onto the sky. Between my open thighs would be some emblem of the crafts I loved most; either a notebook with words clumsily strewn together for 1, a poem that would never be published 2, a song I would hope to one day sing 3, words I would hope to one day act / my little silver and blue cd player, open cd cases and cds scattered on the tiles while I prepped for a bedroom concert – a sure way of training for a career that would spring from some hopeful seed / sheets of paper with bad drawings of one of the many things I would “eventually” design.
These flashbacks are always specked with warm, glimmering rays of light, a construct of the magic associated with childhood; innocence, wonder, desire, faith, knowing, but it would all be enveloped in the bittersweet sent of nostalgia.
It was classified as “dreams”. The thing you wished to be most successful at in your current lifetime was your “dream”. Not sure how many others suffered this delusive habit, but as a child my “dreams” were always set as some future occurrence, while my face and body mimicked my then youth. I later learned that something our deepest desires and ‘wildest dreams’ cannot beat is the constant inching hands and ticking of passing time. Envisioning things as happening “sometime in the future” turned my ‘dream catching’ into a cat and mouse game. I did not catch the mouse and my age and appearance overtook that of the girl in my ‘dream’.
Nevertheless, the “glimmer and magic” mentioned above are things I involuntarily associate with my childhood, yet as an adult I still feel their accompanying warmth like an ember continuously lit in my spirit. That constant pull of an unfulfilled ambition – an image I can better describe as the child version of myself tugging at the hem of the skirt or dress shirt of my office outfit each day.
For many “grown ups” with unrequited dreams there is a trail of events in their past where parts of themselves and their dreams died; times where they expressed their desires to a mother, father, brother, sister, aunt, uncle, teacher but met ridicule or no offerings of support in return – where they attempted a step forward but failed and lost the courage to try again – where they observed others receive abundant, overt praise and believed that they were not as good – they expected opportunities to present themselves but they never did, so it was taken as an indication that perhaps it was not meant for them… Until they eventually arrived at a place where they saw no point in believing in “a dream”.
Some may claim that there is no longer an ember glowing in a dark corner of their soul reminding them of a desire that once burned. However I also know that there are others who will until the day they die feel that tug from little hands beckoning a quick glance at the thing their soul most desires.
A new feat of my flashbacks though are their proceeding thoughts; what was once a conundrum, that is, regretful feelings of losing faith, settling, resentment towards those who made me feel that it was wrong to want to do things differently are now replaced with the realization that all the things I expected others to express to me, I could express to myself, that as an adult, I can seek, search, grow and learn to reinforce my positive thoughts and beliefs in my capabilities. I have the power (and tools in this information age) to learn the things that were not taught to me, and I can reignite that flame by fueling my spirit and pouring its richness onto my own glowing ember.
Keeping my desire burning is my responsibility. Picking up a pen to write again, stepping behind or infront a camera, using creative skills to manifest new ideas are all things I like to do and want to do and can do.
Becoming ones own Hero sounds a bit romantic, but it is an expression and declaration of a willingness to go “all in” on a bet on oneself. It is choosing to believe and rely on ones innate and acquired abilities. If there is a deep desire to do something at any point, at that same point there will be the possession of what is needed to take atleast a small step forward in manifesting that desire, and if no possible small steps are available, it might simply mean that the time is not right but it does not mean the time will never come. Moreover, part of ones heroism is to figure out a step. Part of ones heroism is to stop waiting for someone to offer a “go ahead” or a “you are good enough”.
Part of my heroism is accepting that if no one gives me a chance, and I want to do something, I will create my own chance.