60: (February 2022)
Thirty or 40 years ago, the future seemed to stretch out for miles. I spent a lot of time imagining what was on or beyond the horizon in those days. I had so many dreams. It recently occurred to me that I’ve largely stopped dreaming! But I aim to change that.
Somewhere along the line, I’ve learned to focus so much on the moment that the act of dreaming about the future has been thwarted. Creating a balance between being in the moment and cultivating some dreams might be more enlivening. Of course ‘the future’ is shorter, so maybe that’s why I don’t dream into it as much. These days, it is not unusual to hear about people who are relatively close to my age who have become seriously ill in some way; a few have died. This is very sobering, to say the least.
As I proceed further through this seventh decade, perhaps a subconscious fear of what the future might bring has prevented me from being bolder and more proactive in my life. Dreaming means imagining new vistas and acting on new ideas, rather than simply submitting to being reactive to what life tosses my way.
Maybe I need to live like there’s no end. If illness hits, so be it, but in the meanwhile, what new adventures can I dream up? Many possibilities are dependent upon good health, so in order to dream without bounds, I’ll make the assumption that I’ll remain healthy and mobile. If that doesn’t turn out to be the case, it’ll be a chance to come up with different dreams.
I might very well have 30 relatively good years ahead of me. What dreams can I turn into reality during that time? What do I want to be when I grow into old age? Who do I want to be, in terms of the things I value most? What can I transform in my life? Let the dreaming begin.
40: (February 2002)
I saw two girls playing on the waterfront as I boarded a ferry to visit my mother on Long Island. I saw myself in those girls, 35 years ago. There was a recognition of their spirit, their innocence, the open faces looking out to the world. And I wondered what would happen.
What would happen if the dreams we dream for our lives were to come true? Would that be a good thing or not? Do we dare to dream dreams big enough, bright enough? Do we let life happen to us, or do we tackle it to the ground and squeeze every drop of juice from it?
What would life be like if we dared to hope? If we acted on that hope, if our movement in the world made that hope alive? What is it we would we hope for, for ourselves, for the world? How would we use that hope to enable us to create the world of our dreams?
What would happen if we believed in miracles? If we scoffed at cynicism? If we refused to abandon ideas of undying love, goodness, and trust?
What would happen if we held onto ourselves all through life, embracing our true natures, honoring and loving the breadth of our humanity, and dreaming our life into being from that place of knowing?
What would happen if we never forgot the imprint of God on our soul, the life force that breathed us into being?
What would happen if we chose to turn the pain we inevitably experience in life, not to a hardening of the self, but to a flexing of the heart muscle, the muscle growing stronger, ever more able to embrace truth and compassion?
I saw those two young girls on the waterfront, and I wondered what would happen.
60-40:
I suspect that dreams take on different textures depending on one’s age, but I do hope that dreaming continues to invigorate each stage of life. Dreams have the capacity to fuel our life force. They are expansive; they impel us to think bigger, act bigger, perhaps hope more, and maybe, ultimately, to love more.
What would happen if we all shared a collective dream to leave the world a little better, to relieve suffering, to create beauty? Now that’s a dream worth dreaming.
60-40 