Recognizing Your Dreams

by Linda

Yesterday was an interesting day for me. I decided to take a day alone with my almost 20 year old daughter, Monique. You may not think this is such a big deal, but as a single mom of three, between work, household matters, and minor things like eating and sleep – having time alone with my kids individually (that is not ‘mission’ related such as classes, appointments, etc) is rare.

So, I asked a friend if her daughter would hang out with my ten year old – and Monique and I went out for the day. Oh, we did not do anything overly special; we just had a day alone, to discuss anything that came to our minds, without interruptions, without having to be sensitive to what a ten year old should hear.

It was fun. It was interesting. It was enlightening.

About half way through our day, Monique asked me if I had any regrets in my life. I was surprised by her question, but did not hesitate in answering: no. She was surprised. Actually, I was also. I never thought about it. I just answered. She could not believe my answer and proceeded to question . . . no, interrogate me further. She was thorough and intense. She was not going to let me get away with just saying no. I can tell you, that the best litigator has nothing on this young lady – she could interrogate for the FBI with no problem.

How can you say that??? What about “this” situation? What about “that” situation? What about some unfairness? What about another injustice? She wanted to know what about all my childhood dreams. She wanted to know about what I see for my future now. On and on she went. She named times, dates, places. She brought up other details. She was outraged on my behalf. She alternated between being the ‘bad guy’ and the ‘good guy’ in her approach. She searched my face for signs of weakness, wavering, uncertainty. She analyzed any inflection of my voice, any pause, any too-deep breath. If we had not been in the car, I am certain that she would have had me sitting in a chair, in a dark room, with a hot light shining in my face.

Finally, after the intense questioning was over, she concluded: you are the most unique person in the world. You are happy with your life.

I was stunned.

We then argued over this assessment for a good long while. First, I don’t consider myself unique at all. But, I am, I realized, happy with my life. Not that I have been happy during certain situations (as I was quick to point out to her as my supporting evidence that I am not-so-special as she thinks - to which she replied: only a saint would be happy during bad situations - and she did not think I was a saint). But over all – I have an interesting life. I have met interesting people, gone to interesting places, had and have interesting work. I do try to learn something from my mistakes (and there are plenty of those). I try to make the most of bad situations (there are plenty of those also). I am not perfect. I don’t feel that my life is great every moment. I complain and whine when I don’t get my way. I am happy to be here, though, and I try to remember that when things are not so wonderful.

She made me think about my dreams – you know, the dreams we all had when we were kids about how our life would be when we grew up. What our jobs would be like, who we would marry, would we have kids or not, and if we did – how we would be the perfect parents, the glory of our future achievements and our financial success. At least for me, I had everything all mapped out by the time I was eight. The plan was very simple. First I would be the first woman to enter the US Naval Academy. I would of course graduate with honors. I would then go on to medical school, after which I would discover cures for the most horrible diseases and would be honored with medals of commendation and vast fortunes for my great discoveries. Oh, by the time I was thirty. Then, I would begin my second career as a politician, first become a state representative. And then, at age 36, when I was legally allowed, I would run for President of the United States and become the first woman president.  After serving two terms, I would start my own business inventing things. Oh, and at some point during all this, I would get married and have a LOT of kids. As in twelve (I had read Cheaper by the Dozen – and I thought that family arrangement sounded like a party to me!).

So – those were my dreams at age eight. Those dreams morphed a bit as I got older, but by the time I was in high school, much of it remained the same, although maybe a bit less intense (like the twelve kids idea, had changed to maybe six).

In high school, as I started activities that would put me on this path I created for myself, I realized that while the Naval Academy was great (go Navy!), and while I would love to have continued a family tradition of naval careers (both my father and grandfather had been in the Navy), actually, the military was . . well . . the military. And as such, they liked to enforce rules. And as a rule-bender, that was not really going to work for me.

I also noticed that pioneers, any kind of pioneer, typically paid a high price for blazing new trails. Being the first woman to enter the Naval Academy – well it sounded grand – but a taste of high school taught me that breaking through society expectations is not so fun. It is lonely and many times painful. What was I really trying to accomplish with this goal? I was not sure at that point, but I knew enough to know – what ever it was – it would not be worth the price that I would be pay - for me (and my decision was justified when I observed what happened with the women who did finally become the first women to attend the Naval Academy).

So I redirected my goals toward an Ivy-League school. But our family situation and early preparation (or lack thereof) simply did not allow that to happen. Next came a relationship that ended in heartbreak, but resulted in me becoming a mom before I had finished college.

Becoming a parent changes everything. And it changed me. Medical school would be out of the question – I was not willing to give up being a mom (the kind of mom I wanted to be), to become a doctor (the kind of doctor I wanted to be). So medicine morphed into technology research and applications and a career in the aerospace industry.

During this time, I paid more attention to politics. I learned what it meant to be a politician I watched as individuals came into the office of the presidency looking one way, and leaving that office four or eight years later looking very different. I learned about our real political process - not just the spin presented in school books. I learned more about how decisions are made (or not) and who holds the real power in this market economy. I understood that I would not be happy or productive in that environment.

I noticed and learned that I did well in entrepreneurial situations, problem solving, communications, and technology. I looked for ways to combine those elements that I love with the other thing that I love: my family. I realized that having my own business was the way to get the most out of life. So I did. I started my own business. It has not been easy, nor has it been perfect. I did not reach great financial success (yet); but I manage to support my family and keep them close to me at the same time.

I realize that I have not changed the world as I thought I would, but I have been the world to my children, and have contributed something in some way to a better world through international relationships and environmental activism.

So – when I think of all that – I understand why it was so easy to say I have no regrets. I recognize that my dreams have come true: love, family, friends, experiences, necessities. And I am nowhere near being finished. 

Linda is a multi-tasking (translation: crazy) mom of three, homeschooling since 1992, world traveler, dreamer, writer (baker, chef and bottlewasher).

Comments

[JoVE]

Great way to explain that. I think what we forget is that childhood dreams are based in a child's knowledge of the world. It is almost inevitable that as we gain more knowledge, we will modify our dreams. But that doesn't mean giving up our dreams, just creating new ones. No regrets. Great place to be.

[Marjorie]

what a great post -- thanks for sharing!

[Jackie]

I'm always inspired by your writing. Thanks for always sharing so much insight and wisdom. It's funny, I just read a book called What Happy Women Know and in the last chapter the author listed 10 wonderful qualities of happy women. I think you touched on all of them in this essay. Very interesting.

[Tracee Sioux]

I think I forgot to dream for a while, it just seemed easier that way. Then when I woke up and started dreaming again my husband flipped out. Now he's on board, but I realized without a dream, what's the point? http://traceesioux.blogspot.com/2007/03/staking-everything-on-faith-personal.html