Chasing Dreams


Can't come to the phone right now. Out chasing wildest dreams. Please leave a message, and we'll get back to you as soon as we can…

These dreams are nearer than ever. Feel the brush of their incipient reachings against our fingertips, as we stretch to grab 'em? The tempting sensation's like a tease. Are you really as close-by as you seem?

I would like to discuss this with you, friend to friend, really I would. But who has had the time? I feel as if this is the first moment I've had to sit down and think in a week or more. Life waits for no one. And so we remain in action, lurching this way and that, straining our backs and our shoulders and knees, swerving to catch the fly-balls and still remain standing. In the rush, we fall out of touch.

Reality check. Road block. Buzzkill. You aren't as close as you thought. Nowhere near, in fact. This ain't never gonna happen… or at least that's what we woke up believing this supposedly-cheery-but-nonetheless-dreary morning. Our reminder, though we must keep moving forward regardless of any regard, we cannot shed everything that's come before. We bring it with us, as us. We remain an embodiment of every last disappointment we've ever experienced—and at each setback ('temporary' you say? we'll see about that), we launch back into the familiar litany of reasons why nothing's ever going to change, why we are doomed to be nobody more than who we've always been.

Didn't we already address this? I thought our most-recent prior efforts covered this ground. Forgive me for feeling just a little bit frustrated (or shall we call it 'fired up'?) we must go through this charade of acting as if none of that had ever happened… but I am willing to chalk this all up as some kind of test (though, if you'll permit me, I prefer considering The Universe to be the examiner in this case rather than some mortal figure who doesn't take me at my word or an entrenched institution that gives not a single damn about my personal journey), and I will reconfirm my commitment to staying on this path I chose for myself. If we have to do this all again—with emphasis, with flourish, with a humble fuck-you to whatever conditions are forcing us to repeat our work—then we will. This is hardly a time to throw in the towel. Not when those winds, radiating out from the obvious momentum, breathe so alluringly in our faces.

The dream remains alive.

To grant benefits of doubts, then, let's presume they just haven't realized you aren't the same person you used to be. Still a living aggregation of everything that's previously occurred, naturally, and shaped by all that. But wait… there's more! Other developments transpired outside their view. Maybe they couldn't see you; maybe you wouldn't let them. Maybe they didn't understand what they were witnessing, or maybe they just weren't paying attention. It's not outrageous to consider, amidst all this motion, a disconnecting chasm has opened. They don't know who you've become. It is, however, your job to reiterate it to them—and not in a shrill explanatory tone that reeks of 'please believe me', but simply through doing the deeds which this person you now are just does. I don't say this to be harsh: You get no congratulations for that.

Even still, 'who we've always been' is plenty awesome enough to pull off these dream-bearing feats! This startling hitch, familiar frustration, stubborn annoyance, gully-in-the-throughway… is it really enough to stop us in our tracks?

Someone with more experience might write us an 'open letter' explaining why we apparently don't want the grail sufficiently badly to persist beyond some discouraging turn of luck. The kids these days, always counting on instant gratification. We never expected any single spirited leap would yield much result. We had attention-spans, patience, practical-mindedness. Turn off your damn phone! Get off my damn lawn!

Open Letter to Members of [insert gimmicky name of next generation here]: When I was your age, I didn't know shit. And I didn't know which shit I didn't know shit about either. Now that I know slightly more shit, let me pointedly tell you that you don't know shit about the shit you don't know shit about. Only, we aren't quite sure which shit that is. Honestly, you probably know a hell of a lot more about a hell of a lot more shit than I do… but there are still a few things you know less shit about. One of them is the value of time, my friend, since, well, I've had more of it than you. Only by using time, over some length of it, can we demonstrate we're learning ever more about who we are… and that we intend to become a continually better-actualized version of that awesome person, by proceeding with what's best for us. That's how we know what to insist upon, to really fight for. Let that be what we move forward together with, in confident knowing.

Owning what you do know, though, you've got this in the bag. You're unstoppable—yes!—but not without the requisite pauses, problems, puzzles to solve. Alternately upbeat-and-optimistic, justifiably-mopey, and pissed-off-as-all-get-out… not a sign of imbalance but merely evidence all your emotional bases are being covered. What else would we expect, chasing dreams, colliding with realities, shuffling faith into common-sense, laying vision atop cold facts? A few conflicting feelings are par for the course.

Having digested this panoramic view, please return to one step in front of the other. Get dressed. Fix lunch. Return their message. Little moves pave the way for bigger ones. Advance. Lock in the progress. Deal with the next challenge awaiting you there. Can't tell you what it is, from here, though. You do, however, know yourself. You chose which way this arrow's heading. Still aimed right? Then, follow it.