I'm sitting in the gray light of
increasingly late morning, thinking about dreams. Letting dream
worlds roll about like hard candies against the tongue of my mind.
Thinking of the wrapper and the spit and the sugar and what allows
them to be.
As a woman, I am beginning to realize
that perhaps my dreams have always been slightly pulled towards the
mild. Women are encouraged to nurture the dreams of those around
them: friends, lovers, family. Our own dreams are acceptable so long
as they do not interfere with our ability to be selfless and keep
everyday life going. Men are expected to be absorbed in what they are
doing, selfishly, forgetting to eat, forgetting to sleep. Women don't
feel right about this sort of thing.
I want to stay selfless, sure, but I
want to dream selfishly. I want to get so absorbed in what I love
that I forget myself, lost in timelessness and flow. I absolutely
want to nurture the dreams of my loved ones, strengthen them, and I
feel myself doing that the most strongly when I pour myself into my
own projects and works.
Within each of us lie boundless
dormancies. We have all of these facets, but we try to fit neatly
into the roles we saw in our childhoods: teacher, banker, doctor,
vet. Sleeping inside me there's a dancer-gymnast, a medic who jumps
from a helicopter after an earthquake, a teacher, a linguist, a
healer. In some other universe, some other me is climbing
Kilimanjaro, documenting forbs in a cloud forest, pouring over
ancient texts, building walls of stone, making giant colorful bold
sculptures. These me's live within me and they all matter and they
all need to be nourished. Everything tells us, no, get real. Get a
job, work very hard in that one way, be secure. And that stuff
matters too, but we can't starve our other selves just to feed our
bank accounts.
For me, now is a time of transition. Of
scheming. I'm asking myself, deeply, understandingly, but with tough
love, to design a life that honors my 9-year-old self. That girl was
aware of earth-shattering injustice, of real danger, and of a huge
world and she said just wait til I can get out there. She read about
explorers and heros and saints and she's like, yeah, totally, this
will be life. She built with mud and fallen branches and dug holes
and hung upside-down as much as she could. She was totally badass and
totally nine.
I'm still badass. Sometimes, in the
cold and dark of winter, I forget, because I get cold and dark. I was
invited to a solstice party recently and the theme of dress was
winter purity: I pictured lots of ice queens in white dresses. But I
wore my leather jacket, because in winter I have to remind myself of
my pure self, my true self. A badass.
I'm not going to give away my goals
right now. They are still spinning on the wheel, and I keep dipping
my hands into the murky water and giving them shape. But I will say
that last night, I attended my partner's hometown release party for
his first solo record through a really great record company. I've
been tagging along with him on interviews for a mini-documentary,
reading about his beliefs and motivations in the paper, and those
shows were big squishy love fests full of people who are so ready to
support someone chasing down a dream. Seeing him come forward with
this thing he's made over years, songs written in loneliness and
struggle, practiced, recorded in a friends' living room with little
kids dancing around, and give it -bare- to the world, is the most
emboldening thing I've experienced in a long time. I think when you
step off of the pre-designed, neatly packaged and boxed idea of life
that we've always been fed, lots of people resist and call you crazy
but lots also say wow, look at you. You're so special and brave and
you did it, so they support you. I don't know, everyone relates.
It's so different from what I hope and
plan for, but he is walking a dream and a goal and it's making my
dreams and goals, the ripe world of possibility seem all the more
palpable, juicy, and full of seeds. Cheers to a new year, may your
big dreams refine into goals and may they remain in your sight until
they become the new base camp for new dreams.
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