On more than one occasion I have asked another person a very important question: if there was no hindrance, what would your dream be? If money wasn’t an issue, what would you do? If you knew you could overcome the obstacles, what would your goal be?
It’s such a powerful question but few people take time to consider it, including me. It dawns on me slowly like the stiffness settles into my bones after sitting on bleachers for too long that this is a question I have reserved for others. I have not asked myself the question, and the stiffness with which I begin to think about my goals and dreams surprises me.
Then, I realize that I, too, am deterred by fear of the hindrances and obstacles. I also am held back by uncertainty about how I would make enough money to survive. However, it dawns on me that my focus on taking care of everyone else is a captor that keeps me shackled with the heavy chains of my perception of others’ needs. There isn’t space in my self-imposed captivity to consider my dreams and goals.
I have had the privilege of walking alongside others that I care about in helping them achieve a dream. It’s exhilarating to be the cheerleader on the sidelines of the underdog who fights to the final minutes of the game and gets the win. Somehow the reserve of energy to be optimistic runs deeper when I’m encouraging others in the face of challenging circumstances, and I wonder who would be the raw-raw person in my life if I dared to dream.
So, I sit with myself in the silence, peering into the void within, waiting for my own dreams to emerge and introduce themselves. Slowly, they sheepishly come from the shadows of mind, emaciated from lack of attention. I recognized one. It was something I dreamed about as a child. Another steps forward, and I’d forgotten it until it stepped into the light. I had no idea that so many goals and dreams were waiting for me, and I feel a renewed sense of purpose and possibility.
Invigorated, I am reminded of the first time I stood on a paddleboard, rigid and trembling with fear of falling into the water. And fall I did. Climbing back on the paddleboard, I realized that what I feared wasn’t as daunting as I had imagined. I stood up more relaxed and able to continue to paddle across shimmering water.
Pursuing that goal may seem scary and hard, but even if I fall, I can still get back up. Maybe, I’ll even be a little more relaxed to trust the process. And no matter what I’ll enjoy the beauty of the ride.