Monday, March 31, 2008

Stuff of dreams

Man rolls the dice, but God determines the number that comes up; I am learning that adults do not have all the answers. I sadly, officially entered adulthood when the inevitable "Auntie" tag was given as a prefix to my name; the label that voids me from having any claim to insisting on being addressed by name and hereforth being undoubtedly old enough to recollect price increases to 'staple foods' such as candy bars whilst shaking my head ominously at the stuff 'kids nowadays' listen to.

The elaborate plans that I made for myself when I was 18 have not really taken shape, form or substance. The ideas however, are still floating somewhere between what could be reality and imagination. I used to break away from the hum drum of student life and just sit in McDonald's with a McFlurry and fries, scribbling away on old, blue, letter paper pretending to be a convict on death row writing his last letter, only I did it over and over again. These days, I use up my one hour lunch break to catch some Vitamin D in the park just talking to God on my mobile. It means I can rant loudly to no one and people wouldn't lock me in an asylum. There's no time to write anymore and even less to enjoy. I wake up thinking of the work that has to be done for the day instead of the friends I'll be meeting for coffee and doughnuts and as much as I have supported myself the last 6 years (with the exception of tuition fees), there is always the rustled whispering of having not enough money.

Last week I realised that money does run out and that even dreams have to be backed with green paper that should mean less to us than we give it credit for. It is a kick up the butt and a bitter pill to swallow when people my age tell me that I am living in a dream world, not simply because they say it - because I know that I am, holding on to chasing dreams since the rest of the grown up world as I know it seems to have forgotten how to - but because they actually believe that dreams are stuff of childhood not worth chasing for, not worth putting 'growing up' on hold for.

It is true that realistically we cannot feed a family on dreams or pump gas with wishes or make shelter with talent (even if you're a contractor, you need money to get materials etc). Responsibility hits hard especially when you feel like you're coming to the end of the road with nothing to show for it, the end of the road meaning the natural progression of life society and probably biology has set out for us (work, marry, baby, middle-age, retire). It might appear that ultimately people's dreams might actually be having that white picket fence and 2.4 children so when they say they're giving up their 'dreams' for family, what they're actually saying is that family is their bigger dream although they may not realise it.

I like dreams. I live for dreams and I live to live my dreams so stop telling me to stop dreaming for when I stop dreaming, I stop living and I stop being me.

Sunday, March 09, 2008

Mirror watching

A year ago, blogging once a month would have been an appalling thought. Yet now I realise that I just don't have time anymore. What is worse, is that my hours are usually times when I reflect, masticating over thought processes, criticisms and parallel or opposing opinions until I come to a convicted conclusion. I find that when I don't make time to sit and think, my thought process is usually more erratic and even less logical than usual, causing not only others but myself intense stress because I haven't had time to sit down to think of what I really want.

So to rattle off some thoughts in no particular order:

1. I don't take instructions well.
2. I'm not the sweetheart everyone thinks I am.
3. I swear in my head everytime I press the wrong letter on the keyboard at work.
4. I am starting to distance myself from the personal to focus on the goal instead of the journey.
5. I'm starting to perfect the art of fake smiling (at people I don't like).
6. I can't stand people who want to have a good time but won't reap the consequences.
7. Coffee is starting to be seriously addictive.
8. Half the things I wanted 5 years ago are not important anymore.
9. I do not find it refreshing that I care less for people now than I did last year.

10. I'm not sure who I'm turning into. I'm not sure that the person I might be turning into is the person I want to be although at some point in time past, being the person I am now was but a dream.

Part of me wants to go back to when things were simple and playing (bad) tennis and catching tadpoles in drains made me happy. Part of me wants to scale the heights of lofty disdain to the point where disdain becomes a curse rather than a mere coolness of arrogance. I never thought that I would enter into a personal struggle against myself where I find it hard to fit God in either camp. Perhaps that in itself should have been taken as a warning signal that worse things were to come. If I were an eagle used to flying on the thermals that circle the heavens, where previously I followed the warm fumes gladly wherever they may take me, now I seem to be fighting the very thing that keeps me afloat and soaring. Perhaps it's not me I'm wrestling against. Perhaps it's God. If so, it is one battle I can never win. Question is, do I repent in dust and ashes, or do I wait until I am forced to spit out and call Him, King over my life?