"Are You Living Your Dream?"

I just saw a photo of this tagged on a wall with a tired-looking older man walking in front of it with sloped shoulders. Instead of feeling bad for him, I suddenly thought: who the f*@k are you to judge a persons life from one snapshot of a downtrodden pose? It angered me. What a presumption! To assume that someone is pathetic because they're old and tired is such an egotistical thing to do.

This, of course, was my reaction and my own assumptions and all of that. But still, it's a trend seen often among art and film. So it got me thinking about my dreams and ideals.

I realize that as a young(ish) American, I have an ideal of My Dream. It's not exactly The American Dream, but it's in the same ballpark. Now as I look closer at this Dream, I realize something odd. It's not just that I want and yearn for it, although I do most of the time, but I also feel responsible for wanting it. I feel like a failure for not having it, but worse than that I feel almost blasphemous when I consider whether or not it's something I even care about. In the right light this lovely Dream of mine starts to look like a standard that I've set for myself. A bar that if I fall short of, I consider failure.

Now, I feel I should backtrack a bit here, because last I posted I was feeling like I had lost that dreaming part of myself and was mourning that loss. Well, I found it. With the help of a good friend, and for a few days it was lovely! Pure bliss as I constructed dream houses in my head and googled business plans and real estate. But now I'm questioning those dreams. Where is the true desire coming form? To prove myself to the world? To myself? How do I know that is really what I want to do? How do I know if any of my dreams are really what I want?

And why do we look at someone's life and judge it based on whether or not they've fulfilled their dreams? What a terrible burden to put on someone: Fulfill Your Dreams.

Now this is not to say that I'm against dreams now. I love dreams, I think they're wonderful. And I think it's possible to fulfill your dreams. I just want to lose this feeling that I have to fulfill my dreams. That I have to make something of myself, show the world what I'm capable of. What's wrong with just living a quiet, comfortable life? No fanfare. No spotlight. No giant accomplishments.

So this is my next quest: I want to find the heart of my dreams. What I really want in life, not for the admiration of others or what I feel compelled to do, but what I want to do. Really. What I want to experience, see, accomplish. It will take a balance of my right and left brain, which will be interesting for me. I usually give over completely to one or the other, but now I must use both to construct my new dreams.

So wish me luck! I have no idea where to start.

I guess this is growing up...

I just watched "With Honors" (Brendan Fraser, I had a huge crush on him back in the day). It's about college students and a house where they all live. Lots of other things, but that's what struck me. Their age, the way they act and interact at that time. 

It was something that I first watched when I was about 15. I really liked it, and watched it quite a few times. I remember it being something that I looked forward to, before my life began, before things really started. They were so cool. And grownup. I was in awe of their world, their life. 

Watching it now has been emotional. I'm now past those times. It's this strange mix of remembering how it felt at 15 looking forward to my life, and remembering my twenties. I had big houses that I stayed in, roommates and friends. We'd run around, goofy and unsure. I had so much fun, and when viewed in snippets, it would make quite the movie.  

But I never dreamed of life in my thirties. Never got that far, past the wild college years. And now that I am  I guess I'm feeling strange. My exciting years have past, and I don't really know what to do with myself. I have goals: I want to get healthy, lose weight, make money. But they're not the same as dreams. I had dreams growing up. So many, so fun. Now I don't know. I'm not sure if I want kids. I may want a house, but where? I do want a husband, but later, I guess. 

It's like, I've gotten here. I've grown up. And what now? It's not the end, but it's not the beginning, either. It's not that I'm unhappy with my life. I have stresses and very unpleasant things that keep me awake at night, but it's more than that. I don't dream, I don't have crushes, I don't imagine how amazing my life could get. And I know that's normal and that's what happens when you grow up, but I feel like I'm mourning my wide-eyed, daydreaming self.