Some May Say I’m a Dreamer…
She laughed and called me a “dreamer”. She said it as though I was an adult who had forgotten to put away my childhood toys. I’ve been called that before – and other things, such as idealist, blind optimist, Pollyanna, eternal enthusiast, devoted believer, naïve fool, flower child, utopian devotee, and even a romantic zealot. When I was younger, these words wounded me. I felt defensive as I pointed out instances of when I was pragmatic, level-headed, cynical, and unflinchingly realistic. I would always end my defensive rant with a sharp – witted verbal barb just to emphasize my point. I felt that to be labeled a “dreamer” or similar adjective was something detrimental to my character – as if I didn’t possess the survival skills to navigate life’s uncertain roads. I couldn’t recall one instance when the label of “dreamer” was a compliment to someone – unlike the descriptions of people who were “practical”, “down-to-earth”, “logical” or “analytical”. So I choose to hide my natural nature and began to display the more seemingly desirable qualities mentioned above. As the years passed, I encased my dreamer’s heart in layers of normalness so I could assimilate with the mass majority of those with whom I was surrounded. I assured myself that one day, when appropriate, I would easily unwrap the layers surrounding my dreamer’s heart and would return to my natural dreamer nature. I underestimated how difficult this task would become.
A few years ago I had quite an awakening. I believe most of us do at some point in our lives. An awakening that serves as a catalyst for change as we start to question our lifestyles, loves, and accomplishments. It was at this point that I deemed it an appropriate time to unwrap my heart and return to the idealist that I had always been. I had not anticipated that the layers of normalness had hardened into solid walls of practicality, separated by rooms of fear. I began to slowly chisel away the stone, day by day, as I allowed myself to have lingering thoughts about the possibilities of my life. I began to write again, slowly at first, and I began to have conversations with others, and myself, timidly at first, until the walls started to crumble, brick by brick. I realized that this journey was not without spiritual essence, (I now know that it was required). It took years, but I didn’t give up, determined to reclaim my true nature of trusting myself, others, nature, and guidance from above.
Each day I remind myself of who it is I want to be in this world. Sometimes I stray from this ideal, but I eventually return, some times quicker than others. I now understand that there are more people out there, too, trying to reclaim their dreamer’s hearts, struggling through the difficulty of it. It is my hope that we continue the battle, ban together in this journey searching for our selves – supporting and inspiring each other, laughing, crying, and trusting each other. But most importantly, knowing that to be a dreamer is something special in this world, we hold the hopes of humanity in our hands, something that a pragmatic cannot attain.
She laughed and called me a “dreamer”. She said it as though I was an adult who had forgotten to put away my childhood toys. I’ve been called that before – and other things, such as idealist, blind optimist, Pollyanna, eternal enthusiast, devoted believer, naïve fool, flower child, utopian devotee, and even a romantic zealot. When I was younger, these words wounded me. I felt defensive as I pointed out instances of when I was pragmatic, level-headed, cynical, and unflinchingly realistic. I would always end my defensive rant with a sharp – witted verbal barb just to emphasize my point. I felt that to be labeled a “dreamer” or similar adjective was something detrimental to my character – as if I didn’t possess the survival skills to navigate life’s uncertain roads. I couldn’t recall one instance when the label of “dreamer” was a compliment to someone – unlike the descriptions of people who were “practical”, “down-to-earth”, “logical” or “analytical”. So I choose to hide my natural nature and began to display the more seemingly desirable qualities mentioned above. As the years passed, I encased my dreamer’s heart in layers of normalness so I could assimilate with the mass majority of those with whom I was surrounded. I assured myself that one day, when appropriate, I would easily unwrap the layers surrounding my dreamer’s heart and would return to my natural dreamer nature. I underestimated how difficult this task would become.
A few years ago I had quite an awakening. I believe most of us do at some point in our lives. An awakening that serves as a catalyst for change as we start to question our lifestyles, loves, and accomplishments. It was at this point that I deemed it an appropriate time to unwrap my heart and return to the idealist that I had always been. I had not anticipated that the layers of normalness had hardened into solid walls of practicality, separated by rooms of fear. I began to slowly chisel away the stone, day by day, as I allowed myself to have lingering thoughts about the possibilities of my life. I began to write again, slowly at first, and I began to have conversations with others, and myself, timidly at first, until the walls started to crumble, brick by brick. I realized that this journey was not without spiritual essence, (I now know that it was required). It took years, but I didn’t give up, determined to reclaim my true nature of trusting myself, others, nature, and guidance from above.
Each day I remind myself of who it is I want to be in this world. Sometimes I stray from this ideal, but I eventually return, some times quicker than others. I now understand that there are more people out there, too, trying to reclaim their dreamer’s hearts, struggling through the difficulty of it. It is my hope that we continue the battle, ban together in this journey searching for our selves – supporting and inspiring each other, laughing, crying, and trusting each other. But most importantly, knowing that to be a dreamer is something special in this world, we hold the hopes of humanity in our hands, something that a pragmatic cannot attain.
…But I’m Not the Only One
--Angela Frisby
1 comment:
Dreamer...For the analytical and pragmatic, all we have and desire to have came because someone dared to dream. To not only see an idea, building, painting, book but to share it so others can see is truly a wonderful gift. Keep it up Angela.
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