I completed an interesting questionnaire this evening ... one that sparked some relatively deep and not entirely comfortable thoughts. The questionnaire began obviously enough given the topic (what would it take to live a life of passion), with exploring what my dreams are - something I've only recently again been able to even consider.
It moved on to something that seemed, at first, only parenthetically related - "what does success look like to me?" I suppose that this answer was fairly firmly rooted in the world of dreams given that at this particular point, as good as life is, I don't really feel all that successful.
Success, for me, isn't a balance book or a spreadsheet, or some framed parchments or even a really pretty office. The things that define my success - the things I actually truly care about and always hoped the other bits would help me get to - are not quite within reach yet. But at least I am able to identify what they are - freedom to write, the ability to contribute to others, happy successful children, a growing and mutually supportive relationship. A home that welcomes and rejuvenates guests. A body that reflects a level of self-care and balance.
And then the came the kicker: What am I willing to give up in order to make my dreams a reality?
Wow. That's a biggie.
|She'd always been a dreamer.|
She just forgot, once in a while.
It had honestly never occurred to me that bringing my dreams to fruition might take something resembling sacrifice. A little hard work perhaps, but the actual giving up of something? Wow.
The longer I looked, the more I realised that the answer was not one of mere time or money, though those might be part of the equation.
To birth my dreams, I'd have to give up some things that I hold so closely they are almost a part of me - my fear of failing, for one. My need to know how it will all turn out. My lack of confidence. I'd have to give up being a teacher and allow someone to teach me. And most of all I'd have to give up the security of what is to get what might be.
If I could have my dreams for $10,000 and a month-long training - the 'sacrifices' of time and money - I'd likely hold them fairly cheaply. But, if in acquiring my dreams I also had to shave away the parts of myself that hold me back, how dear and worthwhile would they then be?
I hope we get the chance to find out.