Of Dreams, at Dawn - 4/2/14

Where do the dreams go? The ambitions we form in adolescence...the anticipation of adulthood...how do they get lost in translation? Do they die from suffocation? There is pressure to succeed, to accomplish as much as possible; to matriculate, graduate, assimilate, participate, innovate, generate. Start a family, buy a home, renovate. Just don't be a degenerate. Is that too much to heap on ideas that are innocent? Innocuous ideas of an imaginative mind, suffocated by the expectations of society; deemed immature and irresponsible by incontinent individuals incapable of achieving intimate introspection. Is that what happens, or is there more to it? Do the dreams disappear? Fading out of perspective as the "real world" becomes a very clear picture in the meantime? Does Father Time wrest those ideas away from us to clear our minds of clutter, or is he stealing from us the very thoughts that make our hopes flutter? It sometimes seems that we never had them to begin with...there are times when they're so far out of reach that it seems that we've lost touch with the fabric of reality. However, that very same feeling can be as comforting as wool, a warm reminder that success will require a rise to the occasion. Everyone needs some form of motivation. Dreams seem to ripen quickly, yet rot very slowly. They can be hard to pick when there's a lot to choose from, and indecision leads to poor commitments, which can leave us feeling lowly. Others expect us to act boldly, yet when actions don't pan out, they criticize coldly. Is it inaction that results in plans becoming moldy? Discarding dreams after a duration of indistinct determination can be demeaning, despite never being too confident in one direction, but universally leaning. It seems that dreams yearn for interpretation while we search for meaning. Maybe if we understood our desires, we'd learn about ourselves. Instead, we go out looking for ways to define who we are. Cruising around, wasting the gas in the tank. Diving for a ship that never sank. The ambitions we form in adolescence...the anticipation of adulthood...how do they get lost in translation? They get lost when we presume a transition to be a transformation. We attempt to change so that we may grow, not knowing that change is meant to be the result of growth. Providence finds those who remain true to themselves from the start. Where do the dreams go? Should they slip from our minds, they live on in our hearts, always insuring that our inspiration and dedication are never too far apart.

-A. Lewis