What Happens to A Dream Deferred?

I was reviewing the comments on my blog, because I'm just inundated with them (utter sarcasm).... And I came across a sentimental exchange between my mother and sister (which by the way, is not approved use of my blog! - JADED CYNICISM ONLY) and then I got to thinking... I thought back to Langston Hughes' age old question, "What happens to a dream deferred?"

My mother seems to think that I am in pursuit of my dream, which confirms that I'm even better at faking it than I thought I was. Now I've bamboozled my mother... and my ex boyfriend! :-)

What is my dream? {obscenely long pause... still thinking.... 15 minutes has elapsed}

... I don't know. I have absolutely the faintest idea of what I want out of this life. I know my dream for the world, but can you tell you little about the life I envision for myself. I enjoy helping others, but I can hardly mold that into a resolute dream. But, i f I were living my dream in the present, I think I'd know. I'd taste it. Touch it. Feel it. Breathe it. I'm fairly certain I'm just existing, faking it -- and doing a pretty good job of it.

What feels like my dream? For a while I've known the thing that made me feel closest to God was being in the presence of children -- teaching them, allowing them to discover, kissing boos boos and fighting bedtime boogeymonsters. I am who I think God has called me to be when I'm with children... That's the only thing I know for sure.

So how did I end up at Homeland Security and now the Department of Defense doing "scary" communication? If you can answer that, you have far surpassed my ability to comprehend. (Please refer to my June 27th Corporate Share Cropping rant)

Somewhere in this life, I stopped pursuing my dream and started pursuing the dream that so many others, either knowingly or unknowingly, constructed for me. My dream box was sloppily constructed for me and I, bundled in fetal position, got in, made myself semi-comfortable and continue to dwell in blissful ignorance. I've become so enchanted with striving for the extraordinary that I've lost delight in the sweet simplicity of the ordinary.

I'm not complaining (well sort of, I am I guess). Before my 22nd birthday, I visited 15 countries, climbed the pyramids of Egypt (for $1), experienced the majestic history of Italy; sat at the feet of Maya Angelou in her home, absorbing her wisdom about life. I've shared a dinner table with the likes of George Bush (the daddy), the former Prime Minister of Israel Ehud Barak, Queen Noor of Jordan (King Hussien's widow), Archbishop Desmond Tutu, former Black Panther Bobby Seal, Cornel West and author and Holocaust survivor, Elie Wisel... and yet, it's not enough. While I can give you a play-by-play of all the "big things," I've forgotten most of my simple pleasures like swinging at the playground with my headphones on, digging my toys in the sand while trying to bury myself at the beach, riding the roller coasters at King's Dominion with my crazy college crew, playing spades after a holiday meal with my family. And ironically, those are the pleasures that have and will continue to sustain me through this life.

So where am I going with this? Again, I don't know. I just think that so often, it's easy to look at someone's polished exterior and seemingly seamless life and use it as a measuring stick for our own lives. We look at magazines, see beautiful people and begin to feel less-than. We look at someone else's material things and become ashamed of what we've worked so hard for. We examine someone's life choices and begin to second guess our own. When in truth, other's lives are nothing more than rainbows - so beautiful and desirable from a distance, but nothing more than optical illusion bought on my rain and storms. Day in and day out, chances are, they are just faking it too. To that I say, if you are going to second guess something, second guess your limits and go confidently in the direction of your dreams, by living the life you've imagined for yourself - not the life someone else has chosen or even the life someone else has chosen for you.

I can serve up the mantras but can't seem to commit them to my heart. For now, all I can do is work diligently at building my relationship with God and trust in his infallible plan for my life. Perhaps my dream is not off track, just a little deferred? While there are many questions in my head, this one thing I know for sure -- God can dream a bigger dream for you than you can ever dream for yourself.