As a youth ministry coordinator (this is my new title), I often end up leading some level of Bible class on Sunday morning. Last Sunday it was senior high. At the start of class we had a "guest adult" come in and tell the kids a bit about her background, family, interests, etc. It's a part of an initiative that the Board of Youth is taking to foster more interaction between the adults and students in the congregation. So far it's gone pretty well, but that's beside the point. At the end of her introduction, Stacey asked each of the students to answer the question, "What dream(s) do you have?" For one it was going to college and majoring in something business-related. Another just wanted to finish high school. A third hoped to find a way to travel for a large part of her life.
When the girl to my left finished sharing her dream I allowed for a brief pause before the question came to me. Just as I was about to answer, Stacey moved onto the student on my right, "And what about you, Addy? What kind of dream do you have?" she asked.
I was surprised and a little disheartened that I had been passed over. "What about me?" I said with mock indignation. "Don't I get to have a dream?" Stacey quickly apologized. "Oh, I didn't mean to skip you. I just thought, well, that you're an adult."
I was surprised and a little disheartened that I had been passed over. "What about me?" I said with mock indignation. "Don't I get to have a dream?" Stacey quickly apologized. "Oh, I didn't mean to skip you. I just thought, well, that you're an adult."
"Well, sometimes I think so too," I retorted, "but does that mean I don't get to have a dream?"
I went on to briefly share that I thought someday I would like to publish a book, that being a published writer was something I had dreamed of since I was maybe ten years old.
When I was in college (and even when I was in high school) I was simultaneously inspired and frustrated by the number of times I was asked, "So, what do you want to do after you graduate?" Or worse "What do you want to do with your life?" I should have taken it as an opportunity to dream, but usually I ended up stressed out over the fact that I didn't really have a satisfactory answer and therefore could not meet the inquirer's expectation, and I hate when I can't meet expectations.
I finished undergrad in May of 2009 and didn't really stop hearing that question until I moved to Kansas City and started working at St. Stephen 18 months later. An interesting thing happens once you settle into life in "the real world." People stop asking you what you want to do or who you want to be. Sometimes because they don't care, but often because they assume that you're already doing it. If I were to take a poll, I would wager that 75% of the members at St. Stephen believe that I like being a youth director, that I've always wanted to be a youth director, and that I will continue to be a youth director for many years to come. About 20% of the members still don't know who I am, and then another 5% know the truth. That I actually fell into this job by happen chance. That I've been trying to get myself overseas since January of 2010, and I don't really know what my future holds.
Why is it that once we leave high school or college and settle into a job or career that so many of us we stop encouraging one another to dream? Isn't that rather detrimental to the creativity, happiness, and vitality of our society? Sometimes our dreams change - perhaps we exchange the dream of being a wildlife photographer in order to birth children or invest ourselves in a non-profit or a small business. But other times we just give up.
Maybe dreaming is too hard, or maybe it's too risky. Dreaming requires hope and hope is a fragile thing. Fragile things break, and we fear that we will break along with them. What if...? we ask. What if the dream doesn't happen? What if it fails? What if I put my heart and soul and spirit into something that never comes to fruition? What if, indeed.
Later that day I returned to Stacey's question and reflected on my answer. If I really wanted to publish a book why wasn't I doing anything about it? What did I expect? That the editor of a well-known literary magazine would check out one of my better blogposts and send me an e-mail begging for a submission? Did I think that one day I would just decide to stop spending my free time playing Words With Friends and checking Facebook in order to put ideas down on paper? Was this really something that I dreamed? Or was it an easy out? A dream so far off and distant that it didn't actually require my present hope?
I decided that some of my inaction had been out of ignorance, some of it out of apathy, and the rest of it out of fear. Fear that pursuing a writing career would mean facing very real and possible failure. Then I thought about the students that I work with. The ones who dream of being nurse anesthetists and travel writers and professional baseball players and Kindergarten teachers. How could I encourage them to pursue their dreams, when I've spent the past two years denying my own?
I decided that maybe it was time to make some changes. To pursue something that I was afraid might never come to fruition. To hope for something so big that it could fail, and it probably will the first and second and third time that I try. But if I never try, how will I know?
It is good to have dreams, but it isn't enough just to have them if they don't make a difference, if you never make any action toward realizing them. So today, I am taking small steps, beginning with the completion of this blogpost, which I started 3 weeks ago. As soon as I hit the "Publish" button I will go back to a piece of writing that I've been putting off for most of the day. It isn't very ambitious, but we all need to start somewhere.
I finished undergrad in May of 2009 and didn't really stop hearing that question until I moved to Kansas City and started working at St. Stephen 18 months later. An interesting thing happens once you settle into life in "the real world." People stop asking you what you want to do or who you want to be. Sometimes because they don't care, but often because they assume that you're already doing it. If I were to take a poll, I would wager that 75% of the members at St. Stephen believe that I like being a youth director, that I've always wanted to be a youth director, and that I will continue to be a youth director for many years to come. About 20% of the members still don't know who I am, and then another 5% know the truth. That I actually fell into this job by happen chance. That I've been trying to get myself overseas since January of 2010, and I don't really know what my future holds.
Why is it that once we leave high school or college and settle into a job or career that so many of us we stop encouraging one another to dream? Isn't that rather detrimental to the creativity, happiness, and vitality of our society? Sometimes our dreams change - perhaps we exchange the dream of being a wildlife photographer in order to birth children or invest ourselves in a non-profit or a small business. But other times we just give up.
Maybe dreaming is too hard, or maybe it's too risky. Dreaming requires hope and hope is a fragile thing. Fragile things break, and we fear that we will break along with them. What if...? we ask. What if the dream doesn't happen? What if it fails? What if I put my heart and soul and spirit into something that never comes to fruition? What if, indeed.
Later that day I returned to Stacey's question and reflected on my answer. If I really wanted to publish a book why wasn't I doing anything about it? What did I expect? That the editor of a well-known literary magazine would check out one of my better blogposts and send me an e-mail begging for a submission? Did I think that one day I would just decide to stop spending my free time playing Words With Friends and checking Facebook in order to put ideas down on paper? Was this really something that I dreamed? Or was it an easy out? A dream so far off and distant that it didn't actually require my present hope?
I decided that some of my inaction had been out of ignorance, some of it out of apathy, and the rest of it out of fear. Fear that pursuing a writing career would mean facing very real and possible failure. Then I thought about the students that I work with. The ones who dream of being nurse anesthetists and travel writers and professional baseball players and Kindergarten teachers. How could I encourage them to pursue their dreams, when I've spent the past two years denying my own?
I decided that maybe it was time to make some changes. To pursue something that I was afraid might never come to fruition. To hope for something so big that it could fail, and it probably will the first and second and third time that I try. But if I never try, how will I know?
It is good to have dreams, but it isn't enough just to have them if they don't make a difference, if you never make any action toward realizing them. So today, I am taking small steps, beginning with the completion of this blogpost, which I started 3 weeks ago. As soon as I hit the "Publish" button I will go back to a piece of writing that I've been putting off for most of the day. It isn't very ambitious, but we all need to start somewhere.
I came here for bean recipes. I will settle for your personal thoughts though.
ReplyDeleteSorry to disappoint you:
Deletehttp://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Ginger-Garlic-Green-Beans-354956
So true. We really do need to keep encouraging each other to dream, even if it doesn't mean changing jobs or moving to another place. Thanks for the reminder, mon pamplemousse.
ReplyDelete"Why is it that once we leave high school or college and settle into a job or career that so many of us we stop encouraging one another to dream? Isn't that rather detrimental to the creativity, happiness, and vitality of our society? Sometimes our dreams change - perhaps we exchange the dream of being a wildlife photographer in order to birth children or invest ourselves in a non-profit or a small business. But other times we just give up.
ReplyDeleteMaybe dreaming is too hard, or maybe it's too risky. Dreaming requires hope and hope is a fragile thing. Fragile things break, and we fear that we will break along with them. What if...? we ask. What if the dream doesn't happen? What if it fails? What if I put my heart and soul and spirit into something that never comes to fruition? What if, indeed."
and...
"I decided that some of my inaction had been out of ignorance, some of it out of apathy, and the rest of it out of fear. Fear that pursuing a writing career would mean facing very real and possible failure. Then I thought about the students that I work with. The ones who dream of being nurse anesthetists and travel writers and professional baseball players and Kindergarten teachers. How could I encourage them to pursue their dreams, when I've spent the past two years denying my own?"
SO good.
I believe there is a deep interconnect between the way we dream, pursue those dreams, and what we expect of others and their dreams. That if one of them is allowed to evaporate, then the rest of the dream ecosystem suffers. And when that ecosystem suffers, or even dies, it has devastating effects on the world we create each day. It's so much more than Jerry really wanted to be a painter but he gave up so now we won't see his paintings. It's more like Jerry's essence, and all the life that would have been born from his joy, love, and spirit as he painted becomes occupied by a hole. Like a flower that's gone extinct.
Real dreaming, the sort where you openly pine and search for the source of some melody that you remember being delighted with long ago, only to find the wrong song over and over, even to the point that some piece of you believes maybe you've just grown out of liking any music any more...is painful.
But it's painful in the way that sprinting to the top of a hill even as you can't quite breathe is, or practicing the same musical notes over and over again even as you keep messing them up, or taking your friend's apology as they hurt you just the way you knew they would one more time; because this might be the time, that all that effort pays off and what you've been hoping and searching for happens. I think that when it does it's like the age of the world rolls backwards for a second. And I think that knowing that this reversal of the world's brokenness is possible, living your life that way, and expectantly encouraging those around us to do the same is...perfect.