Dream On…Dream Until Your Dreams Come True

“We had so many dreams as children. Where do they go when we grow? Are they swallowed up by the mundane things of everyday life? Or do we lose them, leave them behind us in the dust?” – Helen Hollick, The Kingmaking 

I was recommended a book to read called “The Last Lecture” by Randy Pausch.  In a previous post I mentioned how this book gets you to think of road blocks, or brick walls in a different way.  Rather than stopping you from achieving your goals, it helps to show you just how badly you want them.  What I didn’t mention is what this book really is about.  It’s about achieving your childhood dreams, no matter how ‘out there’ they may be.

I do have to admit that at one point while reading this book I was becoming somewhat discouraged and a bit depressed.  I was really down in the dumps, thinking, “Wow, this guy really has done a lot of what he dreamed of as a child. I haven’t done anything! What a boring life I have lived so far.”

I began to think back to all the things I dreamed of doing when I was a child, and decided to list them all of the ones I could remember.

And boy was I in for a real surprise!  Some of the items on my list have already materialized, and others were in the process of coming to life, and the rest – well, they are something to work towards.

I’ve always wanted to travel the world, and have been sad that I haven’t been able to.  When I started listing off all the countries that I have been to, and some of them more than once, I count up to nine.  Wow, not bad.  My sub goal to this one is to make a similar piece of artworks which lists all the places I want to go, in addition to these (which some I’ve already been to!).

And yes, I did drive a race car.  I realised this dream a couple of years ago during a team-building exercise with my old place of employment.  This was one of the most exciting days of my life!

Playing in a band? Well, this is one of the dreams currently in action.  I’ve decided that I’m going to get up and sing during one of the jazz meet-up nights.  I’m thinking of singing Hallelujah, but I’m not 100% sure.  I can’t believe I’m going to put myself out there, but hey, what do I have to lose?  It’s something to cross off my list!

As some of you know, I’m in the process of planning for my own business, and I’ve been married (and separated), and I have a gorgeous daughter.  I’ll be contributing to medical research in a few weeks.  I’ve owned my home with my ex, and will have my own in the future once this one sells.

Live in a different country?  Well, not sure how that is going to happen right now, but it’s something to strive towards, along with publishing my writing (well, I do have this blog which I’m sharing with the entire world.  That counts, doesn’t it?).  And I’d love to help people in some way.  Not sure how I’m going to go about this.  I’m hoping that my writing can do this in some small way, as well as ‘contributing to medical research.’  I feel it has to be more direct, more in person.  This is something I need to work towards as well.

And Disney…who doesn’t want to go to Disney and meet Mickey Mouse?!  Did that!

Needless to say I was excited to be able to put check marks next to some of the items on the list. And the possibility of having these other dreams come true is making life so interesting and exciting.  To think, that subconsciously I’ve been working towards making these dreams a reality is simply mind-blowing!  What could have happened if I actually did try to make them come true?

I know that some of these dreams are not very big, and some may think they are ‘childish.’  I really don’t care.  These are MY shiny dreams.  I’m taken aback at how even though I hadn’t thought of my dreams for a very long time, they never died.  They lay there dormant for a very long time, but they didn’t go away.  It’s like as if they were still working away materializing on their own, slowly out of sight.

But now what?  Most of my dreams have been accomplished, and some are on their way.  What happens next?  I was chatting with someone the other day and asked him what his childhood dreams are and he said “I’ve accomplished all of them.” I said to him, “Great! What’s next?” and he said “Nothing.”

Well, that didn’t sit well with me.  I don’t think you’re ever too old to dream another dream.  And we mustn’t ever stop dreaming.  I think dreaming is one of the things that keeps us alive, just like food for the body.  For me, I have learned that to stop dreaming means to die – which is what I think I was doing.  I was dying while I was living.

So what makes us stop dreaming?  Until recently, I think what made my dreams seem impossible to achieve was fear.  Fear of not knowing what path my dreams would lead me, fear of being challenged, fear of the hard work involved, fear of what people would think, fear of others not approving.  I had to abandon all of these fears, let go of the blanket of comfort and security which they provided and I had to just put myself right out there.  To actualise your dreams means to work, and I have discovered that there is a formula to this: It takes curiosity, confidence, courage and constancy.  You need all of these to get where you want to be.  You need to work hard.  I did all of this without actually knowing I was doing it.

I don’t want to wake up one day in the future disappointed by the things I didn’t do.  I’ve already gone through that just last week and it felt crummy.  I want to look back on my life and smile.  I want to be one of those elderly people who talk about the good’ol days all the time.  I want to share with my family and friends what I have done, all the exciting things I’ve accomplished, the places I’ve been to, the people I have met, the craziness of my ideas and actions.

And crazy some people may think I am.  They may try to stop me with their words and actions.  They may be offended because I am going against the tide.  But I believe that each of us has a great potential to achieve what we dream and desire.  It’s never too late to have the life that you want.  I now get the saying that the world is too small for people who dream big.

As Ralph Waldo Emerson said “Dare to live the life you have dreamed for yourself.  Go forward and make your dreams come true.”  Now that most of my list is checked, I’m off to dream some bigger dreams.

Another Lesson Learned

“Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them” – Antoine de Saint-Exupery

This past weekend my daughter and I went for our inaugural skate of the season. We were both very excited. She outgrew her skates from last year, so on Saturday afternoon we went to buy her a new pair. Really cute pair too – pink with flowers on them.  That night, we grabbed her helmet and off to the arena we went.

When we arrived we joined the massive line of people waiting to get their skates sharpened. My daughter was so excited to get onto the ice, she was bouncing around as if she had ants in her pants.  But it wasn’t just her.  I too couldn’t wait to get onto the ice, feel the smoothness underfoot, the cool breeze on my face, and hear the scraping sounds all around. This was going to be a great night!

After about twenty minutes we finally had our newly sharpened skates and off to the stands we went to put then on. Just then the Zamboni came out to clear the ice. My daughter started complaining that we had to wait even longer to skate, but I explained – how great this was! We get to skate on freshly smooth ice! I couldn’t believe that it was possible for her to get even more excited.

Finally, we got onto the ice.  We skated to the kiddy section and I began teaching my daughter to skate again as she was a bit rusty (she hadn’t skated since early this year). She was doing quite well when suddenly she fell.  No big deal, I thought until then she started crying.  She has fallen plenty of times in the past.  She pointed out that her pants tore at the knee, and I said it’s OK, we’ll fix them.  Then I hear “Mommy, I think I’m bleeding”. I looked down, moved the opening of her pant leg over and immediately thought “Oh sh*t. She’s going to need stitches.”  I brought her to the first aid area, and was hoping that I was just over-reacting, but the arena worker did say she would need to go to the hospital.

Great.

I wasn’t worried about the stitches Per Se.  I was worried about how the heck I would get her to the hospital.  My daughter had a horrible experience at the local children’s hospital this year and since then, every time I’ve had to bring her back, or to anyone who wears some type of medical uniform she has freaked out.  She transforms into a screaming, arm and leg flaying little monster who is inconsolable.

And freak out she did. Large. Luckily, she didn’t need stitches, but they did glue her wound together.  The poor doctor’s hand was shaking while he was trying to administer the glue, and I was holding her down.  Once it was all done, I was told how to care for it once we get home.  So last night I had to wipe off the glue, but it was impossible to do.  There was so much glue on her leg, way more than necessary.  Of course, I understand how that happened.  The poor doctor just wanted to finish tending to her.  And unfortunately, trying to wipe off all the excess was like trying to wipe permanent marker off the wall.  It was next to impossible.

So into a warm bath my daughter went, with hopes that glue would soften, or her skin would shrivel allowing for the glue to easily come off. That was wishful thinking. I then slowly started to peel the glue off when she stopped me because it hurt.  Of course it hurt!  It was hurting me just as much doing that to her as it was hurting her! She insisted that she wanted to do it. I thought, OK, go for it kid.

She would slowly lift the sides of the glue up from her skin.  I could see the determination mixed with pain on her face.  She was breathing heavily as she was concentrating on what she was doing.  Then she said “Mommy, can you get me some scissors so I can cut it?”  I said, no way. Then she said “please?  At least this way there isn’t a lot to lift up.”  What a genius idea.  So I sterilized baby scissors and I gave them to her.  So little by little she would peel back the glue, cut the piece off, put her leg back into the water to soften some more and then proceed again.  We were at this for over an hour, but she amazingly got the mission accomplished. All the while, I knelt by the edge of the tub, supervising, cheering her on.  What an amazing sight!

When I was cleaning her wound and applying the adhesive strips I asked her why she wanted to do it all herself, and not let me do it.  Her answer left me speechless.  She said “Mommy, I know that it would hurt anyway.  But if I did it, at least I knew when it would hurt, and by doing it, I wouldn’t think of the pain.  I would have to think about what I was doing, and so it would hurt less.”  Once we were done, she was back at playing with her toys as if nothing happened.  But what

a lesson that my six-year just taught me.  There will be pain that we will experience in life.  Rather than letting it just happen to us, why not take life by the horns and do something about it.  By acting, the pain will still be there, but it won’t hurt as much because we’ll be concentrating on doing something about it.

As I’ve mentioned this before in previous posts, I remain in awe with the lessons that my daughter has been teaching me since her birth. She has been instrumental in my growth process and has been a source of inspiration.

I believe that if we are open to learning, that every situation offers an opportunity which something can be gained. Especially if the lesson is beginning taught from those little munchkins also known as kids.

Predisposition and Enigma – Huh?

“Words – so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them.” – Nathaniel Hawthorne

These last two days I’ve become a regular visitor to Dictionary.com.  I’ve been called an enigma and have been told that I have a predisposition.  I’ve heard these words used many, many times but have never really thought or cared to know their actual meaning.  I find it easy to put together a supposed meaning for words depending on the way the sentence or paragraph is constructed, but to be flat outright called an enigma, and being told that I have a predisposition, well, I felt dumb. What the heck do they mean?

So I referenced the dictionary for their meanings and this is what I found out:

Enigma – n a person, thing or situation that is mysterious, puzzling, or ambiguous.

Predisposition – tendency to a condition or quality, usually based on the combined effects of genetic and environmental factors.

Needless to say, I was shocked to learn this.  I never really saw myself like this but now, while taking a good look in the mirror, I can see it quite clearly.  Like the saying goes “hindsight is 20/20.”

I’ve been called complex, complicated, intense, high maintenance and even difficult.  Those qualities never sat right with me because I find that they have negative connotations tied to them and I don’t see myself in a bad way.  I believe I have a big heart and I feel deeply about things, situations and people.  Who knows, maybe that is where the intensity and high maintenance comes in. And I’m still learning about myself, I’m open to seeing things in new ways, allowing myself to grow as a person, and therefore I am constantly evolving and changing.  Perhaps that is where the complexity and complication comes to into play.

I’m not big on labels.  Never liked them at all.  I think it’s a way to quickly pass judgement on people without even knowing them but I can’t help but wear the enigma badge proudly.  I have to admit that there is something to being mysterious and puzzle-like which I find neat.  But I’m also aware that it must be frustrating for some people who are trying to figure me out and get to know me.  I’m not intentionally trying to hide anything or trying to make things difficult, I’m just learning about myself, figuring out what fits for me, and what works.  And if something doesn’t, then I just move on to learn about something new.

What I’m having trouble with is being told that I have a predisposition. As much as I’d hate to admit to it, I do.  What I struggle the most with is that the person who told me this I have known for a very short period of time, about a week and that this person has been able to see right inside of me.  I’m a private person (yes, one that writes about my thoughts and feelings for the entire world to see – an oxymoron, I know).  Only one other person in this entire world has been able to see right into me like this, and now I’m faced with a second person.  I sit uncomfortably with this.  This person has pinned down that the outgoing, joking, sarcastic front I put on to not let people really see me is just that – a front.  Because of my past, I don’t feel comfortable letting people get close to me, to really know who I am, yet I enjoy being in company.  And so I put up a wall.  As I was told, not many people will put up with this behaviour for long and eventually they will go away.  I don’t let it easily be seen that there is someone beyond that front, and it will lead to a very lonely life down the road.  The good thing is, predisposition does not mean predestination.  It doesn’t have to end up this way.

I’m aware of the wall, and I’m working on it with my therapist, but I didn’t really know how bad it was.  This was a HUGE lightbulb moment for me.  This front is automatic, not only with people I just first meet, but with everyone in my life.  As soon as they start getting close with me, up it goes, and it’s like a brick wall.  It keeps them out and me in.

I’m reading a book called “The Last Lecture” and in it the author at one point talks about brick walls.  The purpose of the brick wall isn’t to stop people from doing what they or getting what they want.  The purpose of a brick was is to show you how badly you want something, and how you can overcome any obstacle if you truly want to.  This is a brick wall for me.  One that I have to scale.

So how about that….I’m an enigma with a predisposition.  Who would have thought?

I’ve Been Gagged

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”  – Ernest Hemingway

He’s right. There is nothing to writing. It’s about bleeding all of what you’re holding onto out onto paper.  But figuring what you’re holding onto is the key.

To my dear readers,

As some of you may have noticed, I haven’t been writing much lately.  Actually, I was shocked to hear that its been quite a few weeks, as a few of my darling readers have pointed out. I honestly didn’t think it has been that long. Time does fly, and this truth is actually stinging quite a bit.

I hate to admit to this, but I’ve been gagged.

I’ve been wrapped up into myself lately – into my mind actually.  I’m not sure what has been going on and I’m trying to figure it out.  I just haven’t been able to write.  It’s not that I haven’t had anything to write about, I’ve had plenty, but for some reason I haven’t been able to put pen to paper.  Writing is cathartic for me, it’s soothing.   It helps me process my thoughts, especially the stuff that weighs me down, but lately I have been struggling to get even something small out to you.  Nothing would transfer onto the screen, and as a result I’ve felt very heavy, very drained.

I think this is what they call writer’s block.  But I really don’t know.  I’ve never experienced it before.

One thing I have observed these past few weeks is that writing is hard, but for me, not writing is even harder.  By not being able to write, these thoughts get really crammed into this brain of mine with nowhere to go, and they get squashed. There begins to not be enough room to hold all of these thoughts in and so I then get overwhelmed and more drained and tired.  And because I’m even more drained, then I have trouble to find the energy to write.  The vicious cycle begins and it’s difficult to stop.

To top it all off, then my faithful friends have turned on me – my words won’t come.  I so want to share the amazing things that I’m thinking of with you, but it’s like my mouth just can’t keep up with what is going on in my head.  And when I try to share them, it’s almost as if I’m speaking a drunken slur.  It’s hopeless.  I just want my beautiful words to come back.

I’ve tried different techniques to help me.  I’ve tried to walk away from the computer for a bit.  I’ve distracted myself with different tasks such as drawing, reading, listening to music, but nada.  I’ve tried exercising, meditating, speaking to my therapist, but no luck.

I have so many things I want to share with you.  As Maya Angelou said “there is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”  So now I’m just going to try writing about not being able to write.  It’s torturing me not being able to write, and so with this I’m hoping to ignite that spark again.  I feel like a small piece of me is dying when I don’t write and I need to revive it.  I hate this hollow feeling I have inside of me, which I know is the part of me that thrives when I write that is missing.

I’m hoping that you will see more of me over then next few weeks.  But if you don’t, it’s not because I’ve forgotten you, or I’ve given up.  That’s far from the truth.

With love,
Smartie