Tag: dreams

“I Will be The Hero in My Story”

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.

Unwater-ed Childhood Dreams (Part One)

What happened to your dreams?

 

We’ve all heard the stories; ‘success’ stories from the mouths of their owners on how it was they happened upon their gifts as children. How they saw MJ’s dimples, heard his confident, soprano vocals, watched his feet gliding across the floor and knew then and there “I want to do that.” Then, in that ambitious, unforgiving way that children move through the world, they learnt the lyrics to their favourite songs down to every echoed background riff, knowing that one day it would be them up on that stage… on that track or court, at that operating table, on that balance beam, on that diving board and “everyone will know what I am capable of”.

They took up the habit of showing and telling anyone who would listen what they could do. They even won over mom or dad, or both, a school teacher maybe? Or an aunt? The grey bearded sax player who performed solo at the bar and grill near their house on Thursday and Saturday nights? Guardians who looked on fondly, offering words on how superb they and their talents were and where it could take them. And for them these words did not only make their pillows softer at nights, but it also filled them with affirming thoughts and inner wells of positive reinforcement, “You have all you need. Ypu can do anything. Dream big. Nothing is impossible.”

For you however, your tale is different. Instead of encores and talks of the limitless paths there were to your dreams, what you heard were sometimes lengthy other times short, abrupt rhetoric about your dreams treading dangerously close to the edge that hangs matter-of-factly over ‘impossibility’. Words that followed condescending chuckles or curious glares wanting to know what lead you to this absurd conclusion that you could claim or declare something extra- ordinary for your life.

Still though, you shared more in common with your ‘fortunate’ counterparts than most realize as you went to bed with your dreams plopping hard with you on your pillow, raising up a sweet, bright cloud over your eyes and ears displaying all the things your life could be. And like the aforementioned, your inner voice picked up and absorbed every word from your overseers. You fought hard knowing they were untrue, but unknowingly there the words were wielding themselves deep into your foundation, a whisper whenever you attempted a step forward in your own direction. Now you move through your life wondering why and how your dreams are mostly mentioned in reference to your childhood.