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Sometimes, even dreams are dangerous.

Dreams are a very interesting preoccupation in our culture. Goals, too. How can any of us have a plan for the future when we have no faith in the present moment? It’s no wonder so many of us feel lost even while checking boxes. What are dreams and goals, really? They are our fantasies of the future, but they also can become some sort of tortuous nightmare that haunts our daily lives even as we try to march toward them. 

I realized yesterday that it’s not about my vision of the future. It occurred to me that, first and foremost, my life should be about the work of being alive and living every day. It should be about building skills with diligence and appreciating the exhausting but illuminating experience of being alive. I don’t actually know where my work and life will take me. Any fantasy or presupposition I have ever had has been totally inaccurate. 

All the spiritual gurus on the planet speak of some variation of focusing on “God’s plan” instead of our plan. It’s not about the destination, they say. It’s about the journey. Meanwhile, our culture makes us more and more critical, introspective, obsessed with ourselves and our thoughts and our plans, even more trapped in our own skulls and selves. 

A few things have happened over the last year that have been very painful, yet very informative. I think my faith has finally penetrated my thick skull and cracked it open, letting a little air out and letting a little light in. 

I am tired of plans and planning. I am tried of dreams and dreaming. I need rest, recovery, restoration, and more importantly, I have faith that life is better when I am simply living, building skills, admiring people as they are, and contributing to the common good.

I am so tired of being self-obsessed and virtually useless because of fear. Faith has given me the chutzpah to let go of my bad dreams and have faith that God (or Good) has better ones in store for me. 

I am along for this ride, I’m not sure where it’s taking me, but I like it.