When is a dream worth dreaming?

But if not for being impossible; 

would it be a dream worth dreaming???

A thought about dreams came to me while I was writing my blog. I was writing about “having dreams” and really digging deeply into what having a dream really means. I couldn't help but ask myself that if it were NOT impossible, then would it be a dream worth dreaming? 

If my “dream” would be possible, would it be a dream at all or maybe it would be a misguided goal or a hope that doesn't even come close to reality. Maybe the nature of a dream implies that it is NOT possible and thus to dream our life away as the Everly Brothers sang in “All I have to do is dream” is an accurate statement. I was dreaming my life away as I pined for my Love. I would think of the love that I shared with him; the “strong bond that we knew” as I wrote in the song “To see you once again”. How could it be so impossible to love him again and forever if we had such a wonderful love in the beginning. HOW could it be so impossible and why would I dream of it rather than plan on seeing him again. I would dream of looking deeply into his eyes; throwing my arms around him and feeling his strong arms about me. In my dreamlike state I would feel the hot, moist eager mouth as his lips and mine pressed together in passionate union and I would think of and feel many other bodily sensations and responses to his touch and presence. How could it be so impossible if it existed at one time; couldn't it exist again and forever?

Dreams are something that can play with the mind. They are surreal and who knows how crazy they seem to others but to us; they are as real as waking up in the morning. They motivate us to get out of bed and slide into some decent clothes and go to work. They prompt us to evaluate every relationship that we have only to find that none of them come close to the one that we dream about. We are not looking at it with “rose colored glasses” and forgetting the rough spots that we ran into ourselves along the way and the pain of the separation that only time can heal. We see our lives in the light and scrutiny of the dreams that we hold in our hearts. The dreams become the magnifying glass of our intentions and the filter by which the words that we use on a daily basis are chosen to reflect the plastic life that we have chosen over our dreams. Our dreams can appear more than real to us while living in a state of denial or constant insistence that the life that we are living is the only one that is available to us. Why would we tempt ourselves to believe that life could be better? Why not just accept the fact that life is what it is and it will always be what we have made it to this day and that we should put away those “childish” dreams and work with what we have. 

Reality is not what it is so cracked up to be. I mean, really, does anyone expect us to live lives that are so miserable just because they are the ones who are afraid to dream? Maybe they think that we are as afraid of dreaming as they are; afraid of dreaming a dream that is so impossible that to consider it would peel back and uncover their layers of discontent with their lives. To dream is to not be afraid of the truth of our lives. I think that I can say and believe that if we are afraid of dreaming, we are denying the truth of the miserable existent that we have created. We have sacrificed our right to dream at the altar of a mediocre life. We have bludgeoned our imaginations in hopes that we will not have to face the defeat of our free wills to live as we would really like to live.

“To live a life worth living” is a cliché of clichés that has come to mean even less than the cliché had originally intended. Does anyone “live a life worth living?” If everyone “lived a life worth living” then tell me why there are so many dreamers; so many discontent and discouraged people in mid-life crisis who look at their lives and say “this isn't my life”?

I have stood and faced myself in the mirror many times; shaking my head in unbelief as to the life that I have acquiesced into living. I asked myself “how did I get HERE?”. “How do I get out of this mess and live a “life worth living?” “Isn't it too late to start over?” I would feel my spirit weakened and collapse under the inquisition and sadly admit: “Who am I trying to fool, I don't have a hope to live a life that I could only dream of”. The saddest part of this statement is that I was the one fooling myself that I could life a life worth living while living in misery and want. Oh, I don't mean that I was so miserable and wanted so much that I would never be happy while being in that place; no, it was more like I was miserable and wanted so much APART from what my life consisted of that I was dreaming of being so far away, like somewhere “over the rainbow”. Even Dorothy caught a glimpse of some wonderful land “beyond where the blue birds fly” while she was living in the black and white Dust bowl infected land of Kansas on the dismal farm with the ordinary characters found in an ordinary life.

As I evaluated the realness of my life; 

I fell into despair knowing what I was living in 

and I felt an unquenchable hunger for what I had been living without. 

I had nothing to lose. 

In my mind, it could "get no worse" 

and if I attempted to follow my dream and did not get it; 

I would be no WORSE off than living without it.

Dreaming goes beyond what we can imagine. Dreaming is daring to want something that you can't even see and needing something that you can no longer live without. If but not for it being impossible, it would not be a dream worth dreaming.

Living each day as if it is my last...

Now THAT is a sobering statement but I will submit it with all sincerity. My mother is 87 years old and has been in good health all her life; or so we had thought. She was diagnosed with 4th stage progressive cancer and admitted to hospice care in June. Each day could be her last. One day will bring her last breath. I love my mother and to hear how each breath becomes more laboured is aching to me as her health declines. She says that she is not in pain and that has an answer to many prayers. She was always the picture of health. She was a poster child for good bowel health; eating fiber and even touting the praises of the lowly celery stalk for its fiber content and intestine saving powers. She would eat things that she did not like because they were "good for her". Even then, she "ended up" with a rectal tumor of all things. This life doesn't seem fair that way.

The reality of her illness and age and impending departure instils a deep regret in my heart and hot tears in my eyes. I have feared that she might not have "lived life to the fullest" because she was married to a Narcissistic abusive husband. I feel that though she had many family members, was greatly loved and respected by many, that she did not continue to pursue her dreams and "live each day as if it were her last" and now she is getting ready to face that day. Hopefully, she does not have the regret for living her life as she had lived it as I do.

This really makes me pause and think about my life and what I want to make of it. I learned that we have only this life to live and to live today we must glean our wisdom from our past, make today the best day of our lives and hold onto hope that tomorrow will only be better. I will never stop questioning what is important to me nor will I fail to believe that I deserve less than the very best life has to offer.

“Learn from yesterday, 

live for today, 

hope for tomorrow. 

The important thing is not to stop questioning.”

Albert Einstein

I owe so much to my Mom, a wonderful woman who taught me what hope is and reality should NOT be. I fervently and thankfully dedicate this blog entry in her honor. I love you, Mom.