My Dreams Have Left Me Behind

The wealthy and famous comedian, Jim Carrey, once said:

“I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it’s not the answer.”

I will admit that initially it made me scoff. As a young woman who was stuck in Denmark and constantly felt out of place , I frankly found this statement to be offensive and ungrateful.

But here I am.

Sunday afternoon, sitting at a cafe on the “Rambla de Catalunya” street. Here is a a gentle breeze bringing relief after a warm day. I am surrounded byelegant buildings, an infusion of gothic and modern architecture. Plaza Catalunya is infront of me and Gran Via behind me. If inspiration and motivation lies in beauty, I have no lack of it here.

And yet, I stumble over my own ideas and freeze at the sight of a blank page. It will cost me nothing to write something, anything, but I am stalling, hoping that the words will somehow appear to me and flow through my mind, evolving into some kind of ocean that I can dig deeper into.

But I am all dried up.

I cannot understand how I can be so devoided in one of the most beautiful cities I have ever seen. I was not even suppose to be here. My life took turns I never planned for and led me to dreams I only dared to keep to myself.

So now I wonder, are the dreams we have with open eyes any different from the ones we have with our eyes closed? Perhaps they are just another mean to escape our surroudings when we feel trapped.

But, then what is wrong me? why I am feeling so empty and unhappy? I can do anything and yet I choose nothing.

I wish I could end this article with an answer. Maybe that is problem. We always say that it is not the destination that matters but the journey, and yet we demand to know where we are going. It could be that there is nothing to know.

I would love to be an author but in my adult life my actions have been centeret around becoming something specific or someone, almost ignoring who I am to begin with. In my attempt to achieve my dreams I have forgotten the girl who dreamt them up in the first place. Isn’t it ironic? My own dreams have left me behind.

Perhaps that is why we always feel so lost as we grow older. We move through life with eyes set on the horizon and then one day we stop up to realize we don’t know who we are anymore. We stopped paying attention to what was happening to us while it was happening.

So maybe the answer is don’t try to become. Simply be.

In the end the purpose of life is living. I am suddenly reminded of one of my favourite poems, written by Walt Wiltman, and he concludes it with the following lines, and I will do the same here:

“The question, O me! so sad, recurring — What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.

That you are here — that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.”

(O Me! O Life, Walt Whitman, ll. 7–10)