Abandoning Dreams

The BBQ Pit
1

There’s a line in “Desiderata” about “gracefully surrendering the things of youth”. I will turn thirty in about seven months, and I think it’s time I started to do that.

The “things” I mean to surrender are dreams. Not the kind you can work toward and achieve, that drive you to do great things, those are the good kind of dreams. I’m talking about the other kind of dreams, where you have no control over whether they come true or not. For these, you have to wait for fate to intervene, and wishing doesn’t make that happen.

I have to mourn these dreams in order to let them go. I have to sit here and accept that opportunities have been lost, potential has been wasted, and possibilities that once were are no more. The younger you are, the easier it is to deny these things, the way I have my whole life. Now I have a lot of mourning to catch up on. So here goes:

I do not have a “calling”. I’m unemployed right now, but one of these days I’m going to get a job, and I will do that job, or a similar one, until I retire and/or die. If I’m lucky, I won’t hate it. I could have followed any path I wanted, but that wasn’t good enough. A path that wanted me, that’s what I searched, hoped, prayed for, but the Universe did not see fit to bless me with one. So be it.

She isn’t waiting around the corner for me to sweep into my arms and whisk away to our own personal Paradise. Someday, I may meet someone great and build a life with her. Or I may not. Either way, the Universe has no interest in giving me a leading role in The Greatest Love Story Ever Told™. This may be the hardest illusion of all to surrender, I don’t know if I’ll ever sincerely give it up. It may haunt me to my grave, no matter what I try to tell myself.

Speaking of Paradise, I can’t figure out where it is and move there. I thought everything would be okay if I could just find it on a map, go there and stay there. But wherever I go, I’m still “here”. I’m always “here”, there is no “there”. I haven’t looked everywhere for it yet, but I’m about ready to accept that I wouldn’t find it even if I did. Xanadu was only a dream. It doesn’t exist on this planet.

I’ve treasured these dreams for so long I don’t remember a time before. Letting them go begins like this, but it probably doesn’t ever really end. Of course I’ll have to keep little pieces of them with me until I find something else to get me out of bed in the morning, but does that ever really happen? How does a person go from living such a rich imaginary life to accepting that here and now is really all there is? Believe me, I’d never even try to do it if I weren’t so tired of the disappointment. I just hope whatever comes next is better than that. But maybe that’s just another dream.

2

There are a handful of towns in the US called Paradise. I wouldn’t count on them being paradisical, though. Paradoxical, maybe.

3

I so feel you. I’m in a similar position on almost everything you mention, if you add a little mental illness into the salad, sprinkle with more age than you and serve chilled with a side order of no one (family, friends, etc.). I do understand and empathize for where you’re coming from. And I don’t want to minimize your pain by sounding trite. (Actually, I’d kind of like to scoop up and give you lots of hugs, ice cream and some really sappy movie to watch together. But I think we’re too far apart for that tonight.)

Anyway, here’s a few things I’ve learned hard-headedly:

[ul]
[li]Sometimes ‘downsizing’ what we want and are looking for isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Might make our lives easier and more content. Certainly cuts down on cases of the I Wants or Gotta Haves and, as you said, helps with disappointment. I think the key here is attainability, being realistic and finding a good fit.[/li][li]Sometimes having The Greatest Love Story Ever Told is the biggest crock of shit and it can hurt you in ways you could never imagine (or in my case, possibly not recover from), destroy your very soul. Finding a friend who can also be your lover, confidante, whatever, appears the best long-term goal. Definitely not as awe-inspiring, but happy none-the-less. And I’ve known some people tangentially who that’s worked out even better for. They more or less have it all. The whole enchilada.[/li][li]Being somewhere is just there. Like you said, or rather, “here.” You never escape you and your problems. Plus, people are simply the same (but different) no matter where you hang your hat. That’s what makes up here or there. I used to believe in a Utopia and chased the damn thing all over Texas. When it came to the end of the day though, it truly didn’t matter. It had more to do with me and my outlook than location. [/li][/ul]

Of course, I’m sure you already know all this. Just wanted to wish you the best, send you a good vibe and let you know you’re not alone. There is something out there for you (us, any/every- one) we just have to have faith in it, not give up and look for the best in what is and what can be. That has got to be the truth. If not, I don’t know what else is or could be.

Lots and lots and lots of luck in everything. And much peace.

4

Wow, wasn´t that depressing?; I feel like jumping off the roof now.
I guess it´s a matter of enjoying life on it´s small wonders, if you build a world of dreams sooner or later reality will hit you hard. You shouldn´t measure the value of your life on the great things you´ve missed but on the little details that construct your everyday world.
It´s all good to have goals on your life, and strive to reach them; but keep your goals realistic; you can´t expect the love of your live to fall on your arms, that´s beyond your control, just a matter of chance. Set your goals on things that are within your control, you must have the abbility to carry them through and not just sit there wondering where your golden chance will arrive. And better figure that early or you´ll find one day that you let your life get by without achiving anything, just waiting for something extraordinary to happen.

And even if your job sucks that´s no reason to feel depressed about it, you´re more than just a job. Go to work, bitch about the boss and make a living, and when you return home just do something for yourself, get a hobby, we all have activities that fulfill us, hang out with friends, feed the cat, whatever soothes your soul and brings a sense of achivement to your life.

5

Do not give up those dreams. Speaking as someone who was someone who had those dreams and gave up on them only to find that those dreams will not give up on you.
I think the main thing you might consider changing is waiting for your dreams to happen instead of making them happen. Not everything you dream of can be made to happen, but some just quit worrying about. Dream girl? Don’t worry about it. Find people, make friends and you just may turn around and find that dreamgirl. Or one day call a person on the phone and hear a voice that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Paradise? Look for opportunities where you want go and take a chance. Not it? Go somewhere else!
There is not set map of life where at 30 one must lay down the dreams that make you who you are… or who you wish to be. Stop wasting time mourning youthful mistakes (we all have made them) and get on with living.
Do not blame the Universe or yourself for things that have not happened yet. I am not saying that your proverbial white picket fenced house and wife and kids are just around the corner, but stop the blaming and start the doing.

6

You’re growing up!
I’m not being cynical, just that I’ve been there and it only hurts for a moment.

If you ask a bunch of 6 year-old children “who here is a great runner?” They will all raise their hands excitedly and most will offer you a demonstration. Ask the same question to the same group of kids 5 years later and you’ll hear crickets in the room save for the couple of kids who are proud of their athletic ability. And this isn’t meant to be depressing: As we mature, we get to know ourselves better and acknowledge that there are things we aren’t really good at. As it happens, we should also be finding out about the things that we can do well, nurturing those talents and learning to compensate for our weak areas.

Neither she nor paradise wait around to be found by anyone. No one is going to complete you. No place will make you happy. You do all that on your own.

We all balk at precipice 29. It’s normal. If my experience can be of any comfort, my 30th year was one of the best of my life despite some really scary soul searching and doubt in the year previous.

Princehood is subjective… I found my unlikely Prince in a very unlikely place.
Paradise can be built. Anywhere.

7

Agreed. Got $20? Go to a thrift shop, buy a beanbag, a fan, a copy of The Firm by John Grisham (every thrift shop has at least one copy), and maybe a nice classical music CD. Set everything up in your living room, and that’s paradise right there. Chances are you’ll have around $8.00 left. Order a pizza from Dominoes.

Ya know, I could be a millionaire, and I really don’t think that would add too much to just relaxing with a good book and maybe a snack. How could it? I suppose the fan could be quieter, maybe more toppinngs on the pizza, but other than that, maintaining such a position with a book and bean bag really can’t get much better.

You just have to learn to enjoy reading, listening to music, lounging around on a beanbag…

8

A little bit of personal anecdote – in early 1990 I was in a dead-end job – remunerative and with a little personal fulfillment, but one where I did the constructive work so little-talent superiors could reap the recognition for the work I did which they literally could not. My relationship with my wife was mediocre – we loved each other, but more and more were living separate lives together. Any hopes of children or doing something meaningful and constructive with my life were pretty much down the tubes. The most I could hope for was to work at the abovementioned mostly unfulfilling job until retirement, then live out my declining years as most of my ancestors and collateral relatives had, vegetating. I didn’t know at the time that I had severe cardiac problems, but I’m sure the rundown feeling I had then was not due totally to dissatisfaction.

What came out of that was a strange assortment of things, starting with my heart attack – and a new lease on life, a new sense of its preciousness and the need to make my time on Earth count for something. And that in turn led to taking in three homeless teenage boys and helping them find their futures – and they in turn married and gave me grandchildren. In the process, one of them worked in me what I was trying to work in them – the self-assurance and self-knowledge that make one happy with oneself, loving oneself properly and therefore able to love others.

And somewhere along the way, I found the gumption to quit that job and go to work for a former coworker who had his own business doing private-sector what we’d been doing in government service, and who recognized my skills and expected only the finest from me – challenging me and rewarding me, both monetarily and in the more precious currency of recognition, for what I could accomplish for him. And I found a “ministry,” a calling – being the person I am online on these message boards.

The dreams I had in my youth never materialized – but they all came true, in ways I’d never expected. All I had to do was have the faith to step out and trust in myself and in Providence, and the willingness to see the doors that opened and step through them.

As all this stuff was germinating in my life, a girl from the Hudson Valley was competing in a state beauty pageant in the auditorium of the building I was working in – and she went on to become Miss America and launch a singing career, the “signature” song of which amply conveys the point I’m trying to make. As my life was transformed into the stuff of dreams, Miss Vanessa Williams began the career that led her to record Save the Best for Last. “It’s not the way I hoped or how I planned, but somehow it’s enough.”

Your dreams are the one thing that nobody can deprive you of. Nobody but yourself. Hang onto them – but be ready to see them reshaped by fate, and be prepared to cling to the good stuff that comes your way instead. :slight_smile:

9

This is the most depressing thread I’ve seen a while. Everything said was pretty good though.

10

I should clarify that this is not about particular dreams that didn’t come true. There’s no relationship from my past that I pine for, and no frustrated career ambition I can’t pursue for lack of talent or other consideration. It’s more about a deep dissatisfaction with life. I try all kinds of things to fill the space, but nothing works. And I’m just saying that maybe it’s not because I haven’t tried enough things. Maybe it’s because I never learned to be satisfied. Maybe when you don’t know how to be satisfied, you can try everything there is to try, and nothing will satisfy you, no matter how exciting, sexy or interesting it is. Now I just have to figure out how to learn satisfaction.

faithfool, thanks for both the sympathy and the wisdom. You’re right that it’s about attainability and finding a good fit. I have a long way to go toward finding out what that means for me. Also, I know you’ve been through a lot, and I hope things are going well for you too.

farmwoman, I guess it’s true that I’m growing up. I have a feeling thirty is going to be a very tough birthday, but hopefully the tough part won’t last too long.

JoeSki, it sounds like you’ve found “inner peace”. Did you always have it, or did you have to struggle for it? Either way, congratulations.

Polycarp, thanks for sharing your story. One thing it reminds me of is how absurdly wrapped up I am in myself. I really need to focus on somebody else’s problems for a change, I’m sure it would bring some perspective.

11

cuauhtemoc, now that’s some introspection. I believe you are on the right track and, IMHO, half of the struggle is knowing how to be happy through satisfaction. I mean, you read accounts everyday of celebrities of all ilk who, once they’d reached the pinnacle of their chosen field, they were empty and dead. Yet had everything anyone could ever hope for. So they hadn’t learned the insight that you’re already grasping. That puts you way ahead of the rest of the pack.

You go with that and you will do better than fine. You’ll do great.

I’m also glad that not everything I said sounded totally idiotic. I don’t know about wise, but I was just hoping for grammatically correct, coherent and somewhat useful on any planet. As to how I’m doing… meh. I will, hopefully at some point soon, be able to live a normal life and come out on the other side of this better than I was. Ya know, the New and Improved Faithfool! :smiley: But no matter what, I’ll be stronger and smarter and fulfilled with whatever I am and/or have. (I’m still working on that confidence thing though.) :wink: Regardless, if I can find a way up from the bottomless pit, I know that people that are much more special than I am can definitely find it and make that difference they (and the rest of the world) are longing for. Therefore, I believe you’ll get it. Probably sooner than later now that you’ve started on a path to help you.

And BTW, thanks for asking. Sometimes it’s nice to know that you’re not completely invisible in this gigantic ol’ world. Just like you’re not. 'Cause there’s lots of folks here pulling for you and being positive it’ll turn out for the best. Probably they’re placing bets too, but that’s for another thread.

Now go kick some of life’s ass and tell it what to do. You simply have to rely on faith and plenty of elbow grease for the improvements and all good things will come to those who sweat like a pig and feel deeply about things they can’t see.

Hang in there!!

12

I guess what you have to ask yourself is whether you’re letting go of real dreams or of daydreams. They’re two very different things, you know. Real dreams are the things you really, truly want out of life; daydreams are the things that you want because you love the way they sound. Sometimes daydreams can have a kernel of real dream at the heart of them, and that makes sorting out what’s what a right pain in the ass sometimes. Other times it’s just a pain in the heart.

It’s hard to let go of your hopes and plans. Been there, done that, thought it sucked bad enough that I told 'em to keep their crappy t-shirt. But you know what? My dreams aren’t gone. Not the real ones, anyway. They look a little different from how they looked five years ago, but they’re still right here.

I agree with that it’s probably not a matter of needing to try more things, but rather a matter of truly internalizing the concept of enough. Good enough, smart enough, rich enough, loved enough. It’s not the ultimate or the ideal, but it’ll do, because it’s enough. When you have enough, you have peace. And when you have peace, you have enough.

My job isn’t what I always envisioned, and I wouldn’t exactly say it’s a calling or a career path that wanted me, but it’s challenging and often fun and I get to make a difference in the lives of animals and the people who love them. It’s enough. My marriage isn’t the greatest love story of all time, full of constant giddiness and romance and proclamations of undying devotion; it’s a pretty boring story, full of mundane stuff like squabbles about who was supposed to have done the dishes. But we love and take care of each other, and that’s enough. I’m not a paragon of virtue, but I try to be fair and kind and gentle and to make amends when I fail at being fair and kind and gentle and to learn from the experience when I fail at making amends, and that’s enough.

You’re part right and part wrong about paradise. You won’t ever find it on a map, but it does exist. It’s in your heart and your head, but you can only ever find it if you have enough.

13

cuauhtemoc, I do sympathize. Hell, in my case, I tried paradise, Hawaii to be precise, and it didn’t work out, the man I loved more dearly than life itself vanished out of my life, and I found myself starting over from scratch. That was about 10 years ago when I was 30, except for the man vanishing, which happened a few years later. A year ago, I had the chance to fulfill the dream of a lifetime and sing Handel’s Messiah, if only from the chorus. While the music was glorious and everything I’d hoped it would be, the memory is tinged with pain because no one I loved was in the audience, not even my parents.

I had dreams of a sophisticated apartment in a big city with tickets to the symphony and the opera, wonderful friends, and even more wonderful man, and a job which was demanding, challenging, and fun, and which would whisk me off to foreign places at the drop of a hat.

I turned 40 a week ago today. While I don’t know that I would call this place “sophisticated” I do, to my amazement, own it and I have a wonderful view of trees and the sunrise. Besides, I don’t think I’d like New York. I have found wonderful friends whose conversation is interesting, not banal, and whose compassion is as great as their wit. That includes my brother-in-spirit, Polycarp, but it also includes some who are a few hundred miles closer. My job is not what I expected – I changed from translator to programmer – but I genuinely like what I do and I like that I do it well. Six months ago, I was stuck in a job with a rather awful boss, but the economy finally shifted and I was able to find a new and better job which suits my abilities and doesn’t have someone yelling at me when he makes a mistake! :rolleyes:

Ah yes, the man. You know, 5 years ago, I could have written what you did about how he’s not going to walk into my arms, sweep me off my feet and take me away to our own personal paradise. A year ago, a very shy fellow with thick glasses and a sweet smile turned that smile on me. A month later, I got up the courage to give him my phone number and he got up the courage to call me. We have been seeing each other ever since and, if I can introduce a bit of saccharine into the thread, I do think he’s the most wonderful man in the world for me and I am hopelessly, besottedly in love and, to my wonder, he returns the emotion in full force. I’m 40 years old. When I met him, I’d given up on love and romance. I figured it was reserved for people who were prettier, luckier, or more conventional. I was wrong. He walked into my life, steadily and persistently swept me off my feet, and I found paradise looking into his eyes on a couch in an apartment with a view of the sunrise. I found a better one seeing dawn light through the blinds touch his handsome face as I awoke in his arms.

I sang the Messiah again on Friday night. This time, not only did my parents turn up, but an old, very musical friend drove me there and that gentleman I mentioned in the last paragraph joined us there and drove me home. This year, I have nothing but good memories.

I understand the blues and the blacks, and wondering if anything will ever turn out the way it’s supposed to be, whatever that means. It doesn’t. Things turn out differently instead, and things you never dreamed of sometimes happen, including, in my case, home ownership! Hang in there, my friend. Good things can and do happen; it’s just that some times it takes a while and it doesn’t work out the way you expect.

CJ

14

By the way, lad, my e-mail address is in my profile and I think you’ve got access to my phone number. If you don’t, e-mail me and I’ll send it to you. If you need a shoulder to lean on or someone to commiserate with, I’m here. I’d even offer to put you in touch with a gorgeous blonde with a sexy English accent in your home state, but I think my cousin’s husband would object! :wink:

CJ

15

I struggle with this, as I guess we all do, but years ago I did understand what “enough” was, and why I should allow myself to be happy with what turned out to be quite a lot. I wanted to be so much—to be so great at something, (and I’m not saying that I’ll give up that dream—at least if you keep on trying you end up better off than if you didn’t even bother). However, I realized that what I can do now is pretty damned great, and a lot of people aren’t lucky enough to have what I’ve got. So instead of moping because I’m not oh-so-wonderful, I’ll be grateful that I’ve gotten as far as I have.

This sounds like a trivial example, but I’ll give it anyway: I grew up with a weight problem (and still struggle with it), and there came a time when I lost a lot of weight. It was great, because I could walk up a hill and not get winded. I looked better too. I was far from thin, but I felt better and looked better and dammit, I was really happy about it.

I had some friends who never had the weight problems I did. I’d always assumed that they had it much easier than me, but when I lost that weight (and was so happy about it), I realized that my “thin” friends were not very happy with themselves. They worried about a few extra pounds. They were thinner than me, but they were unhappier than me. How did that make sense? I was fatter than they were, but I was happier with my weight and my appearance? But then I realized that they didn’t realize how good they had it—had always had it—and I did. I knew how fortunate I was to be able to walk up a hill without huffing and puffing. I knew how great it was to be able to buy clothes in the “average sized” section. They didn’t. They were beating themselves up over stupid, trivial stuff, while I saw the Big Picture.

Too many people have this notion in their head that they must be this thing and if they’re not, they’re nothing. They fail to realize that what they are now is pretty good. They fail to enjoy and appreciate what they’ve got now, when they’ve got it.

16

Every day has a sunset and every person has a story to tell. These two thoughts have sometimes been the only things I’ve had to hold on to.

17

Wow, this is an eloquent and profound thread. I’m moved by what’s been written.

I’d like to offer a little nibble of hope to you, cuauhtemoc - but not in order to resurrect your old desires. Perhaps to ignite some new ones?

In 2000 I knew the only thing I really wanted for Christmas was something nobody could give me. I’d just turned 36 and felt really stuck and hopeless - my art was going nowhere, my job was boring, etc. What I really wanted, my heart’s concrete desire, was to play the violin again. I’d given it up in 7th grade because I couldn’t see it turning into a profession, but always regretted the decision because making music had been my greatest joy, despite my limited abilities. In my 20’s I went and leased a violin once, but my attempts at playing were abysmal and without an orchestra to play with, it wasn’t any fun. I’d tried giving up on my hopeless dream, but the desire remained.

One boring day at work I was poking around on the Internet and discovered that there were Community Orchestras in my area. So I leased another violin and found myself a teacher. Felt like an absolute fool taking lessons - the 9-yr-olds whose lessons preceeded mine were in Suzuki Book II while I struggled with I.

Cut to the end – the all-volunteer community orchestra I joined transformed my life. They brought me some of the greatest joys I’ve known - including a “Picures at an Exhibition” format concert that featured six of my paintings. We played a standing-room-only 9/11 commemorative concert. In 2003 we traveled to England. Finding the opportunity to play with them led me to try a new art gallery, which led to new exhibitions I wouldn’t otherwise have tried, and also to a new way of earning an actual living as an artist that I didn’t even know was possible and would never have thought of on my own.

Sometimes small steps can lead to wonderful new adventures.

Good luck to you on finding some!

18

Hey, this is a Republican economic boom. Food to eat and a warm, dry place to stay is the New American Dream.

19

A few years ago I was having a conversation with my girlfriend about religion. As usual, I expressed my disdain for events depicted in the Bible, when she offered this bit of wisdom: Perhaps the miracles that people witnessed in Biblical days were fairly mundane, and the authors of that book realized that in order to make an impression, they had to dress up the miracles in fantastical ways in order to make an impression on the readers. Maybe Jesus didn’t walk on water, perhaps he was just a really good swimmer. Maybe there was no plague of locusts, just a bin of bad corned beef down at the local deli.

The fact is, there is magic in everyday life, and fantastical wonder in ordinary things. You just have to learn to see it. Glitzy media and youthful exhuberance often give us unrealistic expectations, and we tend to miss everyday miracles because they’re not dressed up in pretty bows. That’s OK, appreciation of the mundane is a skill you can learn, and it’s not all that hard.

I was going to say that 30 is far too young to become that cynical, but I remember well how it was for me at that age. I was depressed to an almost suicidal level, because I expected the world to give me happiness on a silver platter, and the world wasn’t coming through. I had to learn that happiness was my own choice, and had to be of my own manufacture. It was only then that some of my “silly” dreams found expression. Not always in the ways I imagined, but sometimes in even more rewarding ways.

Don’t give up your dreams. It’s OK to keep your head in the clouds. But you must also learn to keep your feet on the ground.

20

“Abandoning dreams?”

Jesus, I’m at the stage where when the train goes by a graveyard, I think, “lucky sonsobitches . . .”