My first ambition in life, circa 1978 was to be a cowboy. This was followed in quick succession by the desire to be a boxer, a chemist, an astronomer, and an artist. In between there were brief moments of being Yosemite Sam…and Fonzi. A lifelong fan of movies from old Hollywood, the stories I watched were interested in the human experience and emotions. Their attention to geographical or historical detail was loose. Old movies, and even television when I was growing up, were not quite as obsessed as we are today with what is real and fact checkable.
I think that when Hollywood was in its golden age, reality was quite real enough, thank you very much. Hot on the heels of the Great Depression and the Second World War, America actually dreamed a lot. And they dreamed BIG.
So I’ve been thinking a lot about dreams. Dreams when we sleep can be fantastical, absurd, surreal or terrifying. They are roomy. They don’t have to make sense. The other day I had a dream where a friend of mine who has no hair had hair. And played tennis (he doesn’t). I also was home, but it wasn’t my home, and there were all sorts of people who were them but looked different. You see what I mean?
But that’s not the kind of dream I’m talking about. I am talking about the dreams we have for ourselves and those we love. The dreams we have for the world we live in, even when it doesn’t look anything like the world we wish it were.
I’ve been thinking a lot about dreams. I have been thinking of why some people hold their dreams, and others let them go. Of the different effects that dreams can have whether realized, forgotten, left to perish, or taken away.
For many, this is a double-edged sword. The hope that occupies a dream is handily converted to bitterness when the dream is left to wither, or is taken from them. I have met people–so have you–who have let their lives be consumed with the anger and resentment caused by a dream taken too soon. A sports injury for a talented athlete, or having to leave college to earn money for their family because crisis hit. Shared dreams lost when a loved one dies, or the constant and inescapable robbery of dreams that can occur when a diagnosis like cancer shows up.
But here’s what I’m thinking of. I’m thinking that there is a difference between goals and dreams. A goal is a thing that can happen. It is something that we can work toward and no matter how high it is, we can actually aim for and make it real. But a dream, I think, is something a little different. A dream, to me, is something that is huge. Unlikely, even. It brings joy to think of it, it gives our brains and imaginations a place to play. It helps us see ourselves and our worlds differently.
Goals and dreams hold hands and are friends. Dreams support and make room for our goals. In my mind, it is the difference between having a tiny balcony off of a studio apartment or having an expansive, seemingly endless back yard. Without dreams, a person’s goals are the balcony. There’s not a lot of room.
These “balcony goals” are both attainable and small, indeed. I think part of the function of a dream is to give us more space…to see what is possible, and to move in that direction.
Dreams are the backyard. They are a national park…Yosemite. Or Banff. I think the very act of having dreams makes us bigger. It makes our lowest bar a little higher, and makes it more likely that we’ll land somewhere in the middle.
You know another difference between goals and dreams? Goals are born in and inhabit our brains. Dreams are born in our brain, but inhabit and nourish our spirits.
I can’t help but think of Louis Zamperini, the subject of the excellent book UNBROKEN, and an all-around incredible man with an incredible story. During World War II, he was stranded in a tiny raft in the Pacific for 47 days. In the book, we learn how, after weeks of facing the endless expanse of the sea and seemingly certain death, he and his boat-mate survived in part by dreaming of home. Of their mother’s cooking. Of the taste of their favorite foods. These dreams were unlikely to come true. In fact, they were impossible in that moment. There are many accounts like this.
A dream doesn’t rattle through and remain in the brain like a cross-word puzzle that you struggle to solve, it has the power to sustain us, to remind us of the bigness of our lives, the things we value and hope for…even if they never quite come true.
I want you to do an experiment. I want you to ask people in your life what their dreams are. For themselves and those they love. I will bet dollars to doughnuts that the vast majority of responses will actually be goals. They may be creative, expansive, but I bet they are attainable and anchored in reality. I don’t know that you will hear anyone say that they are looking to design software to communicate with koalas (their favorite animal!) so they can start a koala/human community in the Pacific. Or to be a professional dancer (well past the prime or possibility of doing so) and touring the world, where they will become fluent in every language of every country they dance in. The thing is, that these things may not be realistic, but that doesn’t make it less fun to contemplate them. To let your mind wander, to listen to the whispers of your dreams simply because they are inspiring to you, not because they are owed to you or will come true in the end.
So maybe we’ve been mislead with all this “dreams really do come true” business. Maybe they don’t. Maybe they shouldn’t. Maybe it’s a criterion of dream status that it has nothing to do with what is real or possible or attainable, and that is exactly as it should be. Maybe part of the magic of a dream is that it does not have to anchor to reality. It does not have to make sense or be possible. Maybe dreams are the art studio of the brain. A veritable laboratory of the imagination designed simply to push the boundaries, to feed our spirits, to have something to grow into and aim for.
For people whose dreams come true, I will bet that when they first held and articulated that dream (if only to themselves), it actually was impossible. But it didn’t keep them from holding it. From daydreaming and moving forward, through the Yosemite-sized expanses of their hearts and imaginations. And it doesn’t have to keep you from holding your dreams, either.