“We plan our lives according to a dream that came to us in our childhood, and we find that life alters our plans. And yet, at the end, from a rare height, we also see that our dream was our fate. It's just that providence had other ideas as to how we would get there. Destiny plans a different route, or turns the dream around, as if it were a riddle, and fulfills the dream in ways we couldn't have expected.”
Ben Okri
Heard a great story the other day. A young guy shot
16 under par on the golf course. Some were even calling it “the greatest round
ever played” http://golfweek.com/news/2012/may/17/greatest-round-ever-played/
Although I was certainly impressed with this guy’s
score, that wasn’t the part of the story that captivated me. When asked about
his round, Rhein Gibson, the golfer in question, described how he had a song
stuck in his head all day by the Eli Young Band called “Keep on dreaming if it
breaks your heart.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D-5GnZYxI4M
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D-5GnZYxI4M
Great title.
Side note. I’ve always been fascinated by how songs get stuck in our heads. I vividly remember my mother playing the song “Caribbean
Blue” by Enya after a friend of hers passed away. She said the song gave her a
sense of peace and helped her make sense of her friend’s passing. That memory
will always stick with me. I’ve had many such songs in my hit parade that have
effectively made up the soundtrack of my own life. Music is wonderful that way.
It gives us an anchor to remember things. To reconstruct time and place and
memories in a way nothing else really does. Although he was mad as a hatter, I’ve
always agreed with Nietzsche’s comment that, “without music life would be a
mistake.”
I was however, particularly struck by this golfer’s
story, because his dream was so close to my own. In my life I’ve dreamed of
travel, and to be a comedian, and to write books, and to be a psychologist. I’ve
accomplished all those things. But there was one dream that eluded me. I always
wanted to be a professional golfer. I spent hundreds of hours as kid practicing
and reading and playing and dreaming. But it never happened for me. Yet
somewhere in the back of my mind, the dream is still alive. I’m old and I’m paunchy
and I’m busy. But I haven’t given up. Not completely.
In pursuit of this improbable dream. I practice. A
lot. I even moved out to the country so I could practice and play a little more.
One particular little spot is my sanctuary. It’s a little practice green next
to a cornfield off of a quiet country road. I spend hours out there chipping
and putting. It gives me a sense of peace. Will I ever really be a pro?
Probably not. But something struck me the other day that helped me make a
little more sense of all of this.
Second side note. I’ve had a recurring dream for as
long as I can remember. It’s of my grandparents old farm in Washington state.
In the dream I am young and happy and contented. It’s a nice feeling but I
always wake up a little saddened. To me the dream conveys a sense of longing to
return to a simpler time in my life without all the worries and
responsibilities. I’ve tried to make sense of it many times, but never quite
get there. C.S. Lewis called these kind of things “tantalizing glimpses.” I
think he was right on the money.
I bring this up because the other day I was in a bad
mood. I was feeling sorry for myself, and decided to go out to my little spot
and work it out. I spent an hour or two practicing as the sun began to set, and
then I turned around and made a stunning realization.
I had walked into my own dream.
Seriously. There it was. A farm and a red barn and a
cornfield and a place to quietly do something I’d always dreamed about.
It was kind of amazing really. I sat down and just
kind of took it all in. How had I missed it for so long? Was I living my life
completely on auto-pilot?
It was all right there…
I sat there for a while longer, and was eventually
filled with a sense of gratitude for the moment of recognition. For a while at
least, I understood something. Maybe dreams don’t come true exactly as we
conjure them up, but they still can come true. Sometimes we may have to tilt
the lens a little, shift our perspective a little, but they still might be
there..
I hope I can remember this. Even more so, I hope I
can help others see how their own dreams may have materialized in ways they may
not have completely foreseen. Much like Dorothy in “The Wizard of Oz”,
sometimes we have to go out into the world and stumble a little before we
realize we have all of the things we need right in our own backyards.
I’m gonna try and remember this..