My Dreams Are Not Dead

My own post made me cry.  Yes, it did.  In a good way, though.  I went back to read my, “Why the title?” post and realized that I have ceased to enact it.  At least in my outward existence.  It’s like I am hiding what I love (being creative) because I am afraid of it…afraid of being hurt by it as most people are who chose to live in mediocrity instead of chasing a dream.  And that is what I have been choosing. 

I have been in the perpetual state of “overwhelmed” for 4 months, which if you know me, you know is not like me.  I’m usually pretty laid back.  For the past couple of weeks, I have been trying to evaluate what needs to change to get me out of it.  Hence the lack of posts, and then the obviously emotional one.  I have been trying to dig deep.   That’s always good, but sometimes it hurts and takes a little time to process. 

I have realized that I limit myself.  Just like I limit God.  Mostly because I limit God.  I act like I think He is not big enough to guide me somewhere that my creativity can be used, even though He is the one who gave me the heart that is bursting to do just that.  The heart that I squelch and squash down in order to make sure I am also practical and smart.  I have written before (mostly in my “Ambition” post) how my musical ambition was a hindrance to my relationship with God for a time, and how it brought me more pain than joy.  My written response to that problem was correct, I think.  However, my active response was not.  My active response was basically to pretend the dream was dead.  And then that same response moved on to any other activity that I had any desire whatsoever to do. 

The fear of going back to that place has made me willing to try to do almost anything except for the things I really love to do.  I’m pretty sure that is not how God planned for me to respond.  He wanted me to realize that the dreams were superfluous to His plan; that He did not NEED me to do them in order for me to be used in His kingdom.  I needed to stop basing my identity and my self-worth on them.  But I took it to a whole different level.  (I wanted to say “whole ‘nother” right there, but I used to get grammaticized for that – my term for grammatically corrected – when I was a kid even though Luke Skywalker said it to his aunt and uncle.)  I took it to the level of eradication.  God wanted to bring me back to a place of balance.  But I could only really pretend for so long, I think.  My dreams are not dead.  I would love to be a musician, an artist, a whatever as long as it used some of this pent-up creative energy that was the cause (I think) of my recent “overwhelm-ed-ness”. 

When I allow myself to think about finishing a song or my next art project as a reality, as something to do something with instead of something to shove under my bed or record onto my computer, my heart beats faster…my eyes light up.  (I know they do even though I can’t see them.)  I did a research study at a hospital one time where they had to monitor my blood pressure.  I had been talking to the doctor the whole time, and then we started talking about my music…he made me stop because it was making my blood pressure rise.  And this is what I have so tried to shove in a whole and pretend I don’t care about.  I have been killing the most alive part of myself.

I’m sorry for trying to kill my dreams in order to avoid risk and rejection.  This is what I was thinking about yesterday when I said that hope was the opposite of fear.  My fear would not allow me to hope for anything at all.

I don’t know where I will go with all of this.  In the past, I have always tried to forge my own way and this has always led me to desperation.  I want to be prayerful and always conscious of God’s leading.  I never want to get ahead of Him.  But I know that I am not supposed to live in this box I have put myself in, and He never intended me to, so I have faith that He will show me the way out of it. 

OK, I wrote this post last night, but I woke up this morning with a song in my head.  It is not a song that I have heard recently, nor is it a song that I particularly like.  But I decided to look up the lyrics since I could not get rid of it.  It was a 4 Non Blondes song, and what’s funny is that I would have told you I did not know what the song was about, although I would have known the song.  Amazing what your subconscious works out while you’re sleeping, apparently, because the lyrics are incredibly appropos (minus the getting high part – we’ll just say she meant high on fresh morning air).  Here they are:

25 years and my life is still
I’m trying to get up that great big hill of hope
For a destination
I realized quickly when I knew I should
that the world was made up of this brotherhood of man
for whatever that means
And so I cry sometimes when I’m lying in bed
Just to get it all out what’s in my head
And I am feeling a little peculiar
And so I wake in the morning and I step outside
And I take a deep breath
And I get real high
And I scream from the top of my lungs
What’s goin’ on
And I say, hey hey hey hey
I say hey, what’s going on?
And I say, hey hey hey hey
I say hey, what’s going on?
ooh, ooh ooh…
And I try, oh my God do I try
I try all the time in this institution
And I pray, oh my God do I pray
I pray every single day for a revolution
And so I cry sometimes when I’m lying in bed
Just to get it all out what’s in my head
And I am feeling a little peculiar
And so I wake in the morning and I step outside
And I take a deep breath
Then I get real high
And I scream from the top of my lungs
what’s goin’ on
And I say, hey hey hey hey
I say hey, what’s going on?
And I say, hey hey hey hey
I say hey, what’s going on…
25 years and my life is still
I’m trying to get up that great big hill of hope
For a destination.


Hope II

Today, hope is the opposite of fear.  Sometimes love is the opposite of fear.  Or peace is the opposite of fear.  Today, for me, it’s hope. 

I have another blog in my drafts titled “Fear.”  And then God said, “No, you’re supposed to write about hope as it pertains to your fear.” 

Oh, okay. 

Hope as it pertains to my fear…

is hard

to write


Fear is easy.  Hope is harder.  Hope requires things of you.  It requires effort to maintain it. 

I did a word study on “hope” in the Bible.  (Well, word “study” is a little misleading – I read all of the verses with the word “hope” in them.)  It was enlightening to note how often hope was in conjunction with where you put your trust.  If you trusted on things that pass away, it never promised hope.  Hope was only a valid thing when it was based on faith in eternal things.  In God and what He can do.

No wonder my hope falters.  I try so hard to make sure nothing goes wrong in my life…make sure there are no bumps, and that if there are, they are not big enough that I couldn’t fix them myself.  Only that is not true, but I like to pretend it is.  So, I put my trust in my own abilities…in my common sense and intellect and work ethic.  I rarely, honestly, put my hope in God. 

Hope looks funny after you type it this many times.  🙂

Hope is what I am shooting for today.  Hope in the proper things and based on real truths. 

I didn’t say much in this blog.  I left a lot of lines.  Maybe you can read between them.


I have not put any more poems of mine up here except the title poem, but here’s another one from my journal on 12/2/07.

 Hope seeps; hope keeps coming from somewhere.

Tired: tired drains it away,

And yet it comes again

           and again

                              and again.

Breathing; breathing just enough in –

A trickle – enough for sustenance, enough for staying here, for standing

In the middle.

In the middle of sorrow; sorrow flows, and yet hope holds it at bay – a dam strong enough and yet seemingly weak.

Chandeliers crashing down around you, around me – damaging, smashing the beauty.

And yet there is beauty still

Beauty you can feel and not see.

Beauty you believe in.

Behind the curtain.

Just through the window.

In a different world.

And it’s enough.

Enough to live for.

Talk About a Bad Day

This is actually a story about something that happened last summer, but it was such an unbelievable series of unfortunate events, I decided I had to write about it.

I was working for my catering boss, and we did not have an event, so we were just in the office at her house.  She got a phone call from the bank telling her that one of her accounts was overdrawn, which was impossible because she had plenty of money in that account.  She was just getting it figured out that she was a victim of identity theft when her husband came in and said he was trying to load one of the cars up on the trailer to take it to the shop, but he needed help steering while he pushed it up off of the grass onto the driveway.  Well, she had just entered freak-out mode, and said, “I can’t do that right now!”  So, she’s calling the bank back and I went down to help her husband with the car thing.  The car was not running (hence the trip to the shop), so he pushed, while I steered it up onto the driveway.  He had a truck down the driveway a bit with the trailer hooked up to the back of it, and because their driveway is on a slope, he was able to position the truck & trailer so that he could just coast the car up onto the trailer.  I thought that was pretty clever.  We got it up onto the driveway, and then he asked if I would go sit in the truck and hold the brake down to make sure it did not shift when the car hit the trailer.  So, I did, and his plan worked brilliantly…coasted right onto the trailer, no problem.  I’m walking back up to the house when I hear muffled yelling and banging on the car window.  His plan DID have a flaw.  He did not take into consideration that the trailer had rails on the side, and was now unable to open the door wide enough to get out of the car.  Ummm, uh-oh.  Did I mention it was the middle of summer?  90+ degrees.  And he is neither particularly young, nor particularly small.  A bad combo for being stuck in a car in mid-summer with the windows rolled up.  And of course, the battery was also dead in addition to the car’s other problems, and he could not just roll the power windows down.  It was also not positioned in such a way that you would be able to pull a car beside it to jump it off…the driveway is surrounded by brush at that point.  So, we formulate a plan.  He tells me there is one of those free-standing car battery jumper things in the basement.  He tells me approximately where it is, but in their barely navigable basement, that was still no easy task.  I finally found it, and one of the wheels was broken off, so I had to carry this heavy thing about 100 feet down the driveway to where the car was.  OK, we’re making progress, but it has to be plugged into an outlet to work, so now begins the search for multiple extension cords that will reach that far down the driveway.  I knew where one was in the house, so I ran in to get it, and I also had one in my trunk.  Still not long enough, so he has to tell me where another one is in the basement…another task of de-burying it and following it to find the other end.  At about this point, my catering boss starts calling me incessantly on my cell phone because she is still freaking out about her money and is wondering what is taking me so long.  I decided that getting her husband out of the car was more important, so I just ignored it.  I get everything hooked up to the car battery, charge it up, and he’s able to roll the windows down.  Success!  I have to admit that I was a little worried about the climbing out the window situation based on the facts I mentioned above about him, but he made it happen.  Whew.  Now, I know that worst come to worst, we could have broken a window.  Of course, that was not the most desirable option. 

Anyway, I go back inside and my boss is wondering where the heck I’ve been so I just tell her I was busy saving her husband’s life (OK, OK, I know that’s a bit dramatic).  So now, she has to go to the bank to get everything sorted out.  But in the meantime, she has paid a dental bill that morning with a check that is now going to bounce because of this issue.  She called the place, and they said as long as she brought some other form of payment by 3PM, it would not be a problem.  Since it was looking like our day was not going to be productive work-wise, she just asked if I would just leave early and pay it for her on my way home so that she could get to the bank.  No problem.  So, she leaves, and her husband is now gone with the truck, trailer & car.  I get in my car with her other check to take to the dentist, and my car won’t start.  Nothing.  Well, now that I know where the battery charger is, I go get it and try that out.  Still nothing.  It is after 2PM at this point, and I have to be at the dentist with her check by 3.  It takes 30 minutes to get there.  I made the call just to take one of her catering vans, pay her bill and then come back to deal with my car.  So, that’s what I did and I bought a new battery on the way back to her house.  I got there with it and changed it myself even though I had no idea what I was doing.  She got home in the meantime, and then the police came to take a report from her while I was changing the battery.  He looked at me a little crazy. 

Man, was I relieved when I left her house that day.  It was stress-central!  But then to top it off, on my way home, I opened the sun-visor in my car while the windows were down in my car (my air conditioning doesn’t work), only to have the FM transmitter for my mp3 player, which I had sitting above the sun-visor, fly out the window on the interstate.   Thankfully, it was not hooked up to the mp3 player at the time or they both would’ve gone.

And THAT was a really bad day.

Seven Things

My sister, K, over at Beanish and Other Languages I’m Learning tagged me for the 7 Things meme.  The idea is to list 7 random, little known things about you on your blog and then tag seven friends to participate.   I don’t like to tag people for things, but I’ll play along and post my own “Seven Things.” 

1) I cannot stand sleeping with any type of moving air (i.e. fans) at all.  There cannot even be an opening in the covers all the way up to my chin because I feel like the air is moving around on me.  If you view my sister, K’s, #7 on her own list, you will know that our sharing a room as kids was filled with much strife over this point.  🙂  (That’s why I shared this one.  I thought it was funny that she put it on her list.)

2) I think chewing gum is disgusting.

3) I was home-schooled through the 9th grade.

4) I don’t want to have kids of my own but I love other people’s.

5) My favorite type of music is old big band vocal jazz, Ella Fitzgerald style.  I could listen to it non-stop.  It’s the kind of music I listen to when I need to stay awake in the car.

6) I eat one thing at a time on my plate.

7) I have recently realized that I need to watch out because I am becoming more than a little OCD.  When you have to straighten the French bread you just bought at the grocery store so that it sits in an aesthetically pleasing angle on top of your microwave, you know you’re going down-hill.  I’m gonna be a crazy lady if I don’t curb the tendency now!