What Happens to Our Dreams?
Today has been such a peaceful and cleansing day! I took time to relax…FINALLY! People always ask me what I do to relax and I don't have a good answer for them, but today I took time to read. I went back through stories and poems that I have written. It felt really good, but then it happened…I started to think. Once I get a thought in my head, it's safe to say that there will be no more relaxing!
I have been thinking about my dreams. Taking that trip through my past actually upset me for a minute. I kept comparing what I am supposed to be at this point in life to my current situation. What happened to those dreams? The only explanation that I could come up with was that some bad decisions mixed with real life had devoured them.
I started to think about Langston Hughes' poem, 'Harlem'. It means something different to everyone. Each generation that came after this poem was written has a story to tell.
I have been thinking about my dreams. Taking that trip through my past actually upset me for a minute. I kept comparing what I am supposed to be at this point in life to my current situation. What happened to those dreams? The only explanation that I could come up with was that some bad decisions mixed with real life had devoured them.
I started to think about Langston Hughes' poem, 'Harlem'. It means something different to everyone. Each generation that came after this poem was written has a story to tell.
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
The first sentence alone is so powerful. The poem doesn't define what the "dream" is, but that's what makes it so interesting…it's subjective. I believe that this poem was written in the 1930's as a sign of the times, but it's relevant today because everyone has dreams. More importantly, everyone has a dream deferred.
I honestly don't know what happens to dreams. Mine are definitely deferred at this point due to life. Maybe that's what happens…we just accept that 'life' is the reason we haven't been able to reach our dreams. But do they ever go anywhere? Do they dry up like a raisin in the sun?
I sincerely hope not. I may not be living my dream, but that doesn't mean that I can't attain it. Confucius was quoted as saying, "It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you don't stop." I guess that's where I am with this whole dream thing. I am not going to stop. I can't stop. I have a child to care for and he needs me to be the best person and role model that I can be. How can I teach him that he can do anything or be anything that he aspires to be if I am being a hypocrite and blaming other circumstances for my situation?
The only option now is to resurrect the old dreams and defer the ones that are less important. I guess it's a continuous cycle. I've found that the aspirations that we have when we are young are the best ones to follow. We are not tainted or scarred by life's happenings. Those dreams are pure. That, to me, makes most of the dreams that I have now less important than those that I had when I was younger. Those are the ones I want to make come true.
Maybe I can answer the question of, "What happens to a dream deferred?" by saying, "they are resurrected and lived if we pursue them with strength, endurance, and perseverance."
