It is without question that the part where dreams are starting to come true, regardless of their size, is the right thing to pay attention to, because without that, the fading dreams feel all the heavier.
In thinking about the fading dreams, however, I can never help but think about the way they force us to start over. It's an opportunity, but also a grief to acknowledge. Without recognizing these moments, we build the foundations of our new lives on the sand of unfinished business. It also makes me feel how important it is to encourage each other to believe in the impossible, because when we don't, we put our dreams at risk. And at the end of the day, sometimes, those dreams become the only legacy we will have.
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| Proof copy of Soul Seeker |
I was thinking this week that we should live our lives and pursue our dreams with the same intent as we should when buying furniture.
About fifteen years ago, we moved into our first house, and as with most newly married couples, we didn't have a lot of furniture, and many pieces were either thrift store finds or hand-me-downs. Granted, that green and beige striped sofa I loved so much when Jeph first bought it still survives in our living room. It was well-made. It was a good purchase.
We decided to shop for some new pieces to place in our den. Money was tight, and we wanted to get the biggest bang for our buck.
I fell in love with a gorgeous mission style coffee table. Jeph wanted to purchase a set of furniture that came with a couple of tables. Of course, the table I liked was pricier--that's just how I roll. I didn't stand my ground on much that shopping trip. To be honest, I often cave in when it comes to what I really, really want. I could kick myself every time I do it, because I know in the end, I'm going to regret it. I did, however, stand my ground on that table. My argument? How many times do you want to buy something?
We settled for an inexpensive living room set with a sofa, love seat and chair. All these years later, the table is still one of two favorite pieces in our home--trumped only by the lingerie cabinet he gave me as a wedding gift. The sofa, love seat and chair have spent most of their "lives" covered up with sheets or blankets to protect them--unsuccessfully--from the hazards of life with pets. They haven't held up as well as we would have liked. But they work, for now.
And that's the problem with settling for anything in life. What you settle for only works "for now."
It's just as true about the choices we make in other areas of our lives. Most of us start off with giant dreams. Little by little, or sometimes in giant chunks, they get whittled away by the need to make what feel like practical decisions and by what works "for now."
Last week, I took a giant and tiny step toward what I like to think of as life-correction. Under my own power, I self-published my first novel. I'm trying to be realistic about the step. Unlike many people my age, I'm trying to start over. In the same week, we have learned that our dream of having a child would probably take divine intervention. Anyone who knows me, knows I don't believe in that. While we aren't completely ready to give up, I am also trying to be realistic about that. There are some things in life that, unfortunately, you just can't start over. It's a painful loss. I will regret not trying sooner every day.
One of my dear friends learned that the career she had worked so hard to build, and that was such a huge part of who she has been, is drawing to a close. She'd been kicking around ideas for restarting her life, but learning of this impending end has forced her hand. Sometimes, life has to be like that. Sometimes, you need to make a decision almost without consideration. Sometimes those are the moments that give you the opportunity to make the choices you always should have been making.
Another of my friends is waiting to hear about medical test results that could so dramatically change her life, my heart can't bear to think about it. The only thing I know for sure is that I admire the life she has chosen, so much. I'm sure she would say that there are things she wishes she had done--but everyone feels that. And hopefully, not too many things will have to change. She, too, will be starting over. I'm sure her dreams will be changing too.
The one thing that all of this teaches me is a tough lesson to learn. You can't replace giant dreams with lesser ones. No matter how many little dreams you try to throw at your life, you're never going to be satisfied when you leave the giant ones behind, and for some of them, you can't go back.
Jeph and I are eventually going to have to buy new furniture. I'm eventually going to be standing in a room full of bookshelves, sofas, dining room sets and the like. I'm going to be falling in love with things, not their price tags. I'm going to have to remember to ask myself how many times I want to buy these items again in my life time. Furniture is costly, but replaceable.
Life is the most important purchase you will ever make. How many times do you want to buy it? How many times do you want to start over? And how many times do you want to take the risk that you won't be able to?
Dreams--The Cranberries
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