The past few months I've been thinking a lot about my dreams. I participated in a discussion group as we read through a book called Dream Culture. I typically don't have trouble dreaming, both in the daytime and a night, so reading the book didn't pose as much of a challenge to me as one might have expected. I often take steps to put feet to my dreams and have been a firm believer in taking action and not sitting around wishing something would happen to me. With that being said, the issue I have dealt most with in terms of dreams is what to do when dreams die.
For many people who have taken risks to pursue a dream, having a dream fail can result in a lot of disappointment, confusion, and doubt. There comes a point when one has to decide whether or not the sacrifice to achieve the dream is really worth it or if it is time to give up altogether and pursue another dream. One begins to wonder if they were wrong for thinking they should pursue the dream in the first place and if it was all a big mistake.
These feelings of doubt and confusion are ones that I have had to face often in my life in recent years. Living in a city where everyone is here for the purpose of pursuing a dream can feel daunting at times. There is so much competition to be the next best ____, fill in the blank, and you start doubt your sanity for ever thinking you could be that somebody who overcomes all odds. There's a bit of insanity in all of us that dare to dream I think, because for anyone that has actually achieved their dream, there certainly had to be a lot of blood, sweat, and tears that got them to them there, and to constantly get back up on their feet when life knocks them down over and over again takes a lot of perseverance and faith that one day the wall they've been pushing against will finally come crashing down.
I've come to realize that dreaming is not for the faint of heart. But I don't think there's anything worth giving more energy and guts to than our dreams. I've accomplished dreams before, and the feeling that you get when finally crossing the finish line of your dream so to speak, is one of sheer happiness and completeness that nothing else can give. In that moment all the hard work and preparation that got you there suddenly seems so small in retrospect. And so you dream an even bigger dream and start the process all over again.
Recently, I've had a dream resurface in my heart that I once gave up on, feeling like it just wasn't meant to be or maybe that is just wasn't the time. I made a choice to pursue some other things for a while and kind of bury that old dream. But I feel it showing its head again and I am filled with fresh hope that this may be the time for that dream to come alive. There is a time and a season for everything under heaven, and I think we're about to enter a really beautiful season.
As I've been reflecting on these things, I ended up writing a poem yesterday. I thought I would share it with you :)
Awakening
There is nothing, only darkness. And silence sits like an eager hawk awaiting its prey in the spaces that fill the emptiness of my chest hollowed out, quenching all sound
All is quiet
The eyes of my soul look up to the heavens as a vision of light slips through the door to awaken this heart grown cold and dark from time spent alone in its chamber.
Its beating pulse once turned silent now begins to reverberate so deeply within rhythms that cannot yet be comprehended
And longing stirs
Reawakening the dreams forgotten is the pain of an unkind ache coming to make its home
Settling like a fog that nestles the rocks on the shore of a lake at dawn, it slowly caresses the hardened flesh like the breath of a whisper infusing life into the soul of its hearer
There is more...
Like air inside a balloon inflating the lungs with pure oxygen it ignites the faintest of flames with its friction
A burning sensation warms the flesh that is no longer numb as the pounding dream beat sounds in a tangible syncopated rhythm growing louder and louder, shaking the walls that kept it enclosed for so long
It is alive
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