It's Scary When You Really Look...

I've come to the conclusion that I'm basically living my life on top of a rug.

I've got lots of ...stuff ...swept under the rug. Since the pattern on the rug camouflages the lumps under it to some degree, I can pretend there's nothing there.

But every once in a while I trip over one of the bumps I didn't see.

Case in point...

I've lamented on the blog before that I didn't feel that I have any real life dreams that I'm working toward or believing for. One of the first journal entries in the latest effort to put 10 hours of true seeking time in was also about the longing I have for a dream and the lack of vision in my life in general.

The next entry was a couple of days later and, to my surprise, I'd found that I'd written about dreams that I felt were going to die if they didn't come to pass soon...even though I carefully worded it so that I never actually put a name to the dream.

Wait. Didn't I just say I didn't *have* dreams? How could I feel anxious about dreams failing if I haven't acknowledged that I have any dreams? I'd caught myself in a huge contradiction.

What did I trip over there?

I had to admit then that it's not that I don't have dreams...it's that I'm not allowing myself to admit to them. It's that jinx thing I mentioned in that linked post from November of '08. I still have a deep down expectation that if I admit a desire, the opposite thing will happen.

Or, worse yet, the dream would be dashed by other folks. Scorned. Judged and found wanting. Safer to pretend I don't have any dreams.

But, this week I realized that they are there, whether I would admit them or not. The reason I feel so frustrated isn't that life is conspiring against my dreams, it's that I won't own them. No wonder there doesn't seem to be much going on around me that would seem to be at all favorable for dream development.

So I made myself be honest with myself and I wrote down about 5 things that I am dreaming for. Some are pretty far fetched. Some I could easily achieve with a little self-discipline. All of them were hard to write out where I could see it...where I'd be reminded of what I was looking for/working for/hoping for...where 'They' could see what I want. I felt...vulnerable. But, in a way, I also felt relieved. I don't have to pretend about them any more.

Maybe someday I'll share them; for now, it's enough that I admitted them to myself and took the step of committing them to paper.