Keepin' the Dream Alive

Listening to the State of the Union address streaming online tonight.  Mr. Obama has been talking a lot about dreams in his speech.  Big Dreams.  American Dreams.  College Dreams.  Dreams of Peace.  I thought it was a pretty good speech, and it made me think more about how I identify as an American.  I do, of course, but I feel like I hold that pretty loosely. Don't get me wrong - this is a great country, and I am thankful to have grown up here.  As a woman, as a believer, as someone with a weak gag reflex, soapbox-standing tendencies, and a loud mouth.   

I had some daydreams about expatriation today, as I often do.  I fantasized about giving my 2 weeks notice with a wry smile.  I wanted to come home, pack up our stuff, stash AugDog in an airline approved doggie crate and get the hell out of here.

Escape fantasies are nothing new for me.  Every time I get really stressed out or feel like I cannot possibly keep steady in my life, I begin to make semi-pretend plans to skip the country and start from scratch.  Nowadays, I have enough friends who actually HAVE moved to another country to know that it is certainly not all it is cracked up to be (ie: malaria, black mambas, $8 gallons of milk, constant illness, loneliness, language barriers, dogs-as-food, and the complete absence of diet coke, for example). That hasn't stopped me from letting my mind wander.

I've written about my escapist urges on the blog before.  They were particularly intense during mom's illness, but waned as she got sicker.  Suddenly I felt very urgently present.  The purpose and "meaning" of my life were crystal clear in those last weeks.  But now I need to pray for and cultivate the ability to be present in my actual life all the time. In my work day, my relationships, my conversations, and my laziness.

Right now I am present on my couch, next to AugDog, with my laptop on my leg.  I could be exercising, or writing emails of encouragement to people, or cleaning or working on a painting.  I could be volunteering tonight, or babysitting or researching foster parenthood.  But I am NOT.  I am sitting like a blob in the luxury of the questions of bourgeois blase. Oh, what should I do?  Poor me!  My job is a pain in my butt.  I have no career path.  I'm tired of winter.  I need to lose 20 pounds.  My husband lives on the other side of the state 4 days a week.  Wah wah. We have jobs, health, family, friends, abundance and even excess, AugDog, and I for one have plenty of time to be doing better with my life and my gifts.  But I whine instead.

What is my dream?  What is our dream?  I don't really want "more".  Just different. Calmer. Simpler. Less silly stress and more productive stress for things that are important to me. More time with Hubs and with friends. A garden. Less clutter. More compassion. No more seizures for Auggie or migraines for hubs.  No more student loan debt. Travel. Greener, cleaner, kinder. Present. A house. I dream about coming up the stairs after walking Auggie and not being winded.  I dream about fitting into my marathon pants again. I dream about making a real difference, and about not striving so hard. I dream about BEING different, not just having different things or a different job or a different place to live.  Why is it so hard to make those dreams come true? Ah, the siren song of the couch.  The pull of comfort and rest. Those aren't bad things, but they are not the best long term goal, and do not produce much lasting Fruit unless you are creating them for someone else.

Which is tough to do from the couch.