Dream. Dream on. It is this dream that will make you complete.
The dreams that we build in wide open eyes, when we should actually be seeing reality; the dream that represents our innermost desire to be our own unique self, by bringing it to fruition; the dream to be an artiste, to perform, to be good at it, to be original, to win recognition, wealth and following; to be a thinker and a writer, to reach other minds and hearts and to influence thought; to be a scientist, an inventor, a painter, a physician, an architect, an environmentalist, a political activist, a teacher, a photographer, a musician……dreams of being someone in a role that satisfies the being that is inside each of us, are dreams to cherish.
Then there are those dreams of a state of being in suspended action. Everyone, at least once in a life time, dreams of a peaceful little cottage on the waterfront, set in idyllic surroundings, under the shadow of a mountain, living an impossibly uninterrupted, uniformly uneventful existence; the dream of being given an award for an unknown feat and becoming a celebrity overnight; of suddenly coming into loads of money to splurge on trivia and to be unabashedly generous; of never having to work and of doing whatever one desires – unrestrained by any rules or social mores – when one desires; to live like the erstwhile decadent kings and emperors, who horrified our sense of morality, by their degenerate lifestyle; to control millions of people, their lives and deaths and wills and destinies; of being fawned upon by one and by all; of attaining nirvana, the ultimate ecstasy……. dreams of an unearned state of existence. These are passing, impulsive, undefined dreams. Not for keeps.
The dreams of continuance of action, translated into a way of life; of travelling, of seeing new aspects of life and peoples and places, absorbing the experiences; of accumulating knowledge and wisdom for the sheer joy of the intellectual exercise; of creating aesthetic experiences – buildings, music, art, literary works – for the satisfaction of the creative urge, unhampered by appreciation; of working to unite, integrate people, to bring love and peace and happiness amidst the mundane, the miserable and the strife torn world…..dreams of doing and creating, are dreams that hold tenaciously to our souls – long lasting, nudging, pricking, compelling us forever.
Dreams that scroll through the mind’s eye in a state of semi consciousness, when we are half-asleep and half awake, present themselves every day. A nagging question, a problem, a puzzle, difficult to deal with in the distracted waking hours, suddenly gets resolved in a flash in such moments. These are conscious dreams in repose. The re-living of a beautiful moment, the recalling of a certain frame of memory to search it minutely for missed clues to a question, the solving of a mathematical problem, the learning of a skill like cycling or swimming or even romancing, by going over and over again through the action in our imagination and then suddenly coming upon the key to it; are dreams of inspiration. These dreams are building blocks of ideas.
The dreams that flit behind the closed eyelids, coming from deep in our subconscious minds, representing our suppressed emotions, unacceptable desires, insurmountable fears, in symbols and sequences so jumbled up that the truth is unreadable to our untrained minds, though it is on display. Some are lucid and daring but none outside our private selves knows of them. Some are prophetic, but they are seen by only certain individuals over long periods of time and still remain a mystery, a superstition, a supernatural phenomenon. These are literal dreams. They may be a temporary outlet form the claustrophobia of trapped emotions and unfulfilled real dreams.
The greatest dilemma in youth is having a large repertoire of choices and opportunities; of things we could do, ways we could live, creative skills and a natural capacity to learn and not being able to decide what our real dream will be. Which shall we chose as worthy of our attention and achievement? Shall we regret what could have been, later? Will there be a realisation too late in life that it was not our real calling, not in our capacity after all? Shall we be mediocre or excellent? With the dehumanising emphasis on ‘success’ of a commonly understandable definition, can we ‘succeed’? Who knows the truth but time!
We think we choose. But what parameters have we taken into account? What variables are completely out of our ken? What attenuations of perception have we built in? What points of no return have we crossed? What references have we missed? Is it a free choice after all? Have we simply succumbed to the crush of circumstances, the flow of the current? Have we avoided the choice that would entail effort and unfamiliar route, that would need a display of courage and confidence in our ability to choose; that requires the burning of all bridges and no ships to carry us back; that would necessitate a confrontation, a justification, a rationale; that would set us on a path of collision with others who think they know what is right for us and who have a certain blackmailing card up their sleeve? Or have we simply backed out of travelling a less travelled path? We give up on our dreams rather easily – to please a dear one, to pay a debt of honour to our parents, to being ‘compatible’ with our spouses, to shoulder the responsibilities of family, society and lastly, but most importantly, because we are not confident of the capacity to live that dream. We do not like to pose uncomfortable questions to ourselves.
Then, there are times when we fall into the mundane routine of the life we ‘chose’ (or someone chose for us). With time and the wisdom of the living experience, the chaff, the frivolous, the trivial, the unsustainable dreams fall away, leaving the most precious one (or two) somewhere in a corner of our conscious mind – dream that can be attained if we did not find excuses to not even attempt it. We are afraid of breaking with the familiar, of hurting a loved one, of the disapproval of our friends, the raised eyebrows of neighbours, the rejection of our children, the fall-out of wanting to do something different from the ordinary, at an age that does not lend itself to adventure.
Dreams cannot be wished away. They nag at us when we least expect them to. Surviving a life-threatening situation, losing a dear one, sudden loss of a career, a mid-life crisis . . . force us to introspect: Where did I start? What did I want to be twenty years thence? Where am I now? Is this happiness? Was this life worth the time and effort I put in? What is it from here on? And when I lie on my deathbed, can I say to myself, that I have drunk of life to the very dregs?
What we need to ask of ourselves and with great honesty is: Did my giving up of my dreams really make for a better life? Did it make for great relationships? Did it really serve the purpose I thought it would? Did it give the dividends it had promised? Or, was it all in vain?
We must know that the lost time, the age, the energy, are gone forever, but we still have the unfulfilled dream to live if we resolve to. If we do not claim it now, it may be too late. Why not make one last effort to make it come true? Not for neighbours and friends and relatives, not for fame or money, not for being an impressive image, not even to be a pioneer; only to give the dream its space, just to complete ‘I’.