I did not have big dreams as a child. To admit that makes me feel as if I should be in a confessional booth of some kind - sheepishly revealing that I somehow failed to get it right when it came to aspirations. Sure, there were times I wanted to be a singer or imagined myself on some other kind of grandiose stage, but what I’m saying is that these things never really stuck, never really inspired me.
What did I want to do? Honestly, when I was young, I remembered wanting to be a cashier. Perhaps it’s because they all seemed so friendly. They got to talk to so many people and have a chance to add a touch of kindness to each person’s day. But mostly it was those buttons. Those thick early 80’s cash register buttons were so attractive to me. Like ASMR before anyone talked about it. This is what I chose to act out in my playtime - running the register.
A little later in childhood, but still a young girl, I remember walking by myself and trying to imagine finding a place of perfect peace. I remember wondering how I could participate in making that peace possible for all to enjoy, through some mix of kindness, creativity and a deep love for the world. It was as if I knew it existed, but I had just never yet experienced it.
There is a thread that connects these dreams, and there is still something about both of them that inspires me. But I think the thing I notice is that I never needed big dreams. I always felt that I was big inside, and somehow that was enough. This helped carry me through a lot of childhood trauma and deep spiritual injury.
This week as I prepared to model my “River of Life” journey to a small group of university students, I was recounting the things that had had the biggest impact on my journey. And one of the main things I shared was my dreams. Not the dreams I just told you about, but my sleep dreams.
I recalled one dream I had in 2018 when I was in an airport. I went through security, which was clearly symbolic of dominating powers-that-be controlling the scene. I approached and took some magical dust out of my pocket and instinctively threw it into the air. When I did, time and everyone in the scene froze, except for me. I knew I had a chance - I ran through the airport looking for a room. I knew it was what I was looking for. I was desperate to find it. I ran to a door and somehow knew it was the right one. It was unlocked. Even while dreaming, I was aware I was dreaming, and panicked that I would wake up before I received what was there for me. Frantically, I yelled in the space of the empty room, “What’s the message?! What’s the message!?” Then a voice said to me, “You can do anything, as long as you’re a healing presence.”
I woke up.
As I sat with my River of Life, I was able to see the lines of pink marker highlighting all of the things in my life that have been reclaimed. It was my first grade teacher that made me hate school, and I became a first grade teacher that loved her students. My early childhood was defined by abandonment by my biological father, leaving my single mom to keep us afloat, and now I work for an organization that serves single mothers and children. I could go on and on providing examples of these things in the way my journey continues to play out. And it seems that the deeper the river goes, the more reclaiming takes place.
All of the dreams - both the young girl ones and the nighttime revelations - point me in the direction of the big lesson. It’s not the aspiration, it’s the inspiration. It’s not about obtaining, but realizing what bigness I already possess. It’s not about proving myself, but living in a way that acknowledges that I am already enough. I AM my dreams.
Now the work I do as a spiritual director is to walk with others toward that I AM space of the soul landscape. One could describe it as a place of perfect peace. And it’s endless. Who knows what you’ll encounter there. Maybe dragons. And that’s pretty epic.
Image: Dragons by Chris Hoover Seidel (my current soul landscape)