It took failure at accomplishing some of my past dreams
to realize how important it was to recognize the difference between pursuing a
true passion or a romantic idea.
Do you know how to tell them apart?
I’m being vulnerable here, so don’t judge me too
harshly, okay?
After becoming a single parent with two teenage
daughters who were quite capable and willing to do most things for themselves,
I felt a driving need to find purpose in my life. I wanted desperately to feel
like I was making a difference—somewhere.
Questions plagued me. What did I want to do with my life? What was I supposed to do?
Dream
#1
I thought about my interests. I’d loved the theater
since a child, and I raised my girls on old musicals. One developed a true
passion for them; the other was completely bored by people singing in the
middle of a scene. I began to dream about finding a paid position where I could
become immersed in the arts. I joined a board of parents involved in children’s
theater, and I volunteered as an usher for weekend matinees at a professional
theater in the Seattle area. I discussed job possibilities with management
there. The reality—I would need to work nights and weekends, and the pay
wouldn’t come close to the sum needed to live on. I would have to keep my day
job too. With daughters still in high school, that couldn’t be considered. So,
I dumped that notion.
You see, I was caught up in the romantic idea of
working in the theater. If I’d had a real passion for it, I would have found
ways to make it work—or I would have pursued it again after my daughters were
both in college.
However, my oldest daughter participated in church
dramas and musicals, and she also acted in community theater and high school productions.
She went on to major in theater in college, then continued to take small roles
in plays until she proved herself and got cast in lead roles. She pounded the
pavement in New York and continued to take acting, dance, and vocal lessons while
she worked other jobs. My daughter has a true passion for the theater, and
she’s willing to take her lumps and make sacrifices to make things happen in
her career.
Dream
#2
Again with drama . . . I worked with a friend at our
church to produce full-length plays—some were well-known productions, but some
we wrote ourselves. At one point, I thought it would be wonderful—and cool—to
have an after-school drama ministry in the inner city. A friend who had a lot of
experience in theater was really interested in pursuing that idea with me. Others were intrigued by the project, and
I formed a board. But ideas got carried away. Before I knew it, we were
exploring starting a charter school that would emphasize the arts. Heaven
knows—I was in way over my head. I
didn’t know what I was doing.
My friend, being level-headed, went to pastors in
the city for advice. They told him an after-school drama program didn’t stand a
chance with outsiders coming in to run it. We’d only be looked at as do-gooders
with no street sense. We’d have to move into the community and develop
relationship first.
I disbanded the board. With no clear vision of what
we were trying to accomplish and with road blocks (based on common sense),
there was no reason to continue. I’d
failed—but I’d also learned some valuable lessons. If I’d had a true passion
for starting an inner city program, I would have done better research and been
willing to make some life changes. But, I’d been romanticizing the idea of what
it would/could look like instead of facing the reality of what it would take to
make it successful.
Dream
#3
My husband and I have been blessed with a beautiful
home, and as empty nesters, we have two extra bedrooms and a guest bathroom.
They come in handy when family comes to visit from out-of-state or we have the
grandkids overnight. But, most of the time, those bedrooms remain vacant.
My heart goes out to children who have experienced
painful situations in their young lives, and there was a period of time when my
heartstrings were played whenever I heard about the need for foster care. I
began to dream about how wonderful it would be to give a child a home—save a
little one from more heartbreak. But as my husband and I contemplated what
having a child in our home would involve—the responsibility, the challenges—we
realized that we’re not in the right place to make that kind of commitment.
On the other hand, friends of ours who have been
foster parents in the past are eager to jump back in now that they’ve recently
retired. They have a large home, the time, the wisdom, and the love to offer
children. They know what they’re getting into, and they’re willing to do what
it takes.
Dream
#4
More than ten years ago I began to seriously pursue
a writing career. This journey can require working many hours a day for years
(sometimes seven days a week to meet deadlines), ongoing study to improve one’s
craft, the willingness to risk rejection from publishers and face criticism
from readers, writing—then rewriting, networking, marketing, becoming more tech
savvy, attending workshops and conferences, etc. with no guarantee of success.
Yet—it’s all still worth the hard work. Because it’s my true passion.
It’s one thing to think about how awesome it would be
run across the finish line at the Boston Marathon. It’s another to care enough
about it to train—despite awful weather or injuries.
So,
if you think about it . . . are you pursuing a true passion? Or a romantic
idea?
Dawn
