My Song

I realized something tonight. I'm not who I used to be.

And I don't like it. Not one bit.

You see, not very long ago I was idealist. I was a devotee of true love, honor, justice. All things pure and bright. Probably so annoyingly so that people made fun of me behind my back. Ya, I may have had my head in the clouds, but it was a good place to be.

What happened to change all of that? Life, I suppose. About one year ago it all changed.

In my idealism and naivete it seemed I overreached myself, confessed my dreams too freely...and the perfect world I had supposed to exist suddenly mocked me by its absence. Everything I had hoped for was just gone.

Though not conscious of all that was happening back then, it is clear now that the scope of my dreams began to be cut short. The hopes of the boundless horizon became limited to what was right in front of me. Choices made became pragmatic and attained a certain listless coldness. Idealism? Pretty much gone. And with it, so much of the beauty and wonder I could have experienced over the past twelve months have been lost--perhaps forever.

In many ways, that is as apt as any a description of my life since some of the momentous events of last summer. And I'm betting this phenomena is not limited to me...but everyone who has been let down. Whose hopes have been dashed. Who has poured their heart into living according to the deepest wisps of wonder only to realize their dreams were never shared by those who figured into them the most.

Like children building castles in the sand and imagining deep worlds of magic only to have them destroyed at the hands of the careless or malicious, we are devastated. Our hopes are gone, quickly replaced by loss, regret, and shame at ever having been so "foolish" in the first place.

And what do we do with that loss? We can--as I have done when my greatest dreams were dashed--harden ourselves and give up on such "foolish" pursuits in favor of the more utilitarian. Close ourselves off to wonder for fear that we will simply set ourselves up for a bigger fall in the future.

Or we can grab our pail and dream up something even bigger, realizing that our hopes are a gift from God, pointing to a future in which one day our greatest of hopes may ultimately be fulfilled.

It's up to us. But as for me, it's time go down to the sand with my spade and get to work again. After the past year I know I can't afford to waste opportunities and live lower than my dreams any more. It's not who I am and not at all what I am called to be.