Releasing a Dream

I was 11 when I began stalking Adam.

 

Growing up, I spent a lot of time at friend’s houses. One friend had a younger brother who played Little League and she and I would frequently be dragged along to his games. Now, as sophisticated and suave 6th graders, we were well above watching the 8 year old’s play. We were into the big boys.

Notice the subtle stalking strategies of the human preteen...
Notice the subtle stalking strategies of the human preteen…

 

I developed an intense crush on a 13 year old named Adam. He was tall and thin with long blond hair. The hair was the important part – put some long locks on any boy at the time and I would start drooling. Adam was like Prince Charming and Jon Bon Jovi all rolled into one. The scary thing is that I knew more about Jon Bon Jovi than I did Adam. You see, although I still have an entire roll of pictures of him, I never summoned the nerve to approach him at the field. He went to a different school, so the intel I had on him was scarce and somewhat suspect.

 

English: Jon Bon Jovi in concert, Nijmegen, Ne...

 

But I didn’t care. I was happy enough to create his personality and interests while watching him run the bases. I’d weave fantasies of us running off together. I had pictures of him in my school binders (binders full of Adam?) and on my walls. He may not have known who I was, but he was a major fixture in my life. This continued for the next two years.

 

One day I heard my mom call across the house,

 

“Lisa. Telephone.”

 

Picking up, “Hello?”

 

“Hey. It’s Adam. From the ballpark?”

 

I almost dropped the phone. It was a dream come true. I knew he had access to my number through a chain of friends, but I never imagined he would call.

 

Of course, I tried to play it cool.

 

“You go to  —- high school, right?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“A friend of mine goes there. Do you know —–?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Do you play baseball for the school?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Do you play any other sports?”

 

“Nope.”

 

And that was what the entire conversation was like. All 30 minutes of it. He was nice enough, but he was no Prince Charming and certainly no Jon Bon Jovi. In fact, he was boring. He just happened to have long hair.

 

When I hung up the phone, I also hung up on my crush on Adam.

 

That was an easy dream to release. I had little invested in it and, as a boy crazy 13 year old, I had lots of other options on the horizon. He truly was easy come and easy go.

 

Not all dreams are so easy to release. The more time, effort and energy we have invested in a dream, the more we are committed to holding on even when all signs point to letting go. The more we see the dream as a reflection of ourselves, the tighter the binds to the image.

 

Dreams can be amazing and powerful motivators that help us make wonderful changes. They can inspire and encourage and carry us through the darkest days.

 

But some dreams are made entirely of fantasy. In order for a dream to become reality, it must contain elements of truth. If we hold tight to unattainable fantasies, we will never be content.

I faced this cold, hard fact dead on when my husband left. I had held tight to a dream of us growing old together. I saw us hand in hand with wrinkles covering our faces and our heads swathed in gray. That dream was no easy go. It was unbelievably painful as it was ripped from my grasp. But until I released it, I would not be happy.

 

So, how can you tell which dreams are inspirational and which are detrimental? How do you know if you should hold on or release your dream?

 

Fact Check: Don’t make the mistake I did with Adam. Check the elements of your dream against reality. Preferably sooner than later. Reality will hit regardless, but it’s nice to anticipate and plan for its arrival. Sometimes, the truth derails the dream entirely and sometimes it is merely a roadblock to work around. Regardless of what it is, awareness is key.

 

Alignment: Does your dream align with who you are and your core beliefs and needs? I see evidence of ignoring this one in the school system. Many second career teachers (especially in math) started out in fields where they were isolated all day. They had always dreamed of being an accountant/underwriter/etc., but they never though to realize that it didn’t align with their need for social interaction. Cue crushed dream.

 

Perspective: Sometimes the path to achieve a dream doesn’t become apparent until a new perspective has been gained. You pretty much have two choices here: keep on living and shelve the dream until your experiences give you direction or talk with others and hear their take on your aspirations. Of course, friends don’t always know what’s best. Mine encouraged my fantasies about Adam:)

 

Shift: Many dreams are not all or none. I’ve had fleeting fancies of running in the Olympics. But, let’s be honest. A 5’2″ 35 year old late in life runner has about as much chance of that as Tiger does of becoming president. So, a gold medal was out, but I could still shift my dream to running a marathon – the kind where they let anyone run:) Maybe the dream is the image that can motivate you to a more realistic reality.

 

And, for goodness sakes, if you have a crush on someone, don’t wait two years to talk to them!

 

 

 

There is Only One Week Left!

Only one more week to enter to win a free copy of my book, Lessons From the End of a Marriage on Goodreads!

nook cover

 

You Up For Something New?

That was the text that came to my phone at 3:30 this afternoon. Of course, there’s only one appropriate response:

“Sure.”

The text came from a friend of mine that I frequently refer to as my “sprinting buddy.” We first met at the gym a couple of years ago. He was in the early stages of trying to regain his fitness after a knee surgery that ended with a staph infection and landed him in the hospital. When we met, he had been cleared by the physical therapist to lift weights again but his leg was still weak and shaky. I admired his spirit from our first meeting. He wasn’t moaning about the years he lost fighting for his leg. He didn’t complain about the loss of fitness he once had. Instead, he talked about his dream to play tennis again and, even more, to sprint again.

Our casual gym discussion eventually turned into a weekly “leg day” workout. I delighted in coming up with exercises that would challenge him and his strengthening leg. He never complained (only would text me the next day to let me know if his legs were sore or not). Although, I did sense a wary look when I pulled out the Bosu Ball or the kettlebell:)  We did squats and lunges. We balanced and jumped. And his leg grew stronger while we shared giggles over the customs associated with our mutual Norwegian roots.

Throughout that time, he still dreamed of sprinting, something he enjoyed and excelled at in high school when he was on the track team. His first tries that year fell flat. He just wasn’t ready.

At the end of that school year, I switched jobs and gyms. We lost touch for a few months. Then, I got a text asking if I wanted to meet up to run sprints. I was thrilled. We met at a nearby park where I watched as he wrapped his knee in a couple of layers of protective gear and jogged a couple of test laps. The mind was ready to run, but the body still needed convincing.

The look on his face while running that day was amazing as he ran the dream that had kept him going through the ordeal with his knee. The joy was contagious. I found myself pushing myself harder and having more fun than I ever had before while sprinting.

We continue to meet up to run sprints whenever we can. He has since well surpassed me (I think there may be some cheetah mixed in with that Scandinavian blood). Every time we run, it leaves me feeling so refreshed and relaxed, even through the wheezes as I struggle for air.

The parallels between our recoveries these past couple years have been interesting. He was cleared by his physical therapist about the same time I was cleared by my psychiatrist. We were no longer “sick” yet we had quite a ways to go before we were fully operational at the levels we were accustomed to. We both tried to push the healing process along on our own timelines only to be reminded that it wasn’t within our control. And finally, we both came through the other side stronger and more grateful than ever before.

So, what was with the something different? Normally, we run 100 yard sprints. He had worked his way to 200 yarders while I was training and recovering from the marathon (sneaky!). Today was my first stab at them. And, I gotta say, they were pretty awesome.

I love the feeling of running while giving 100%. I love the satisfied exhaustion I feel after sprinting. I love having friends in my life that are an inspiration. But most of all, I love to see people accomplish their goals and delight in the fruition of a dream.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish catching my breath:)

 

The Misuse of Affection

 

Kissing Black-tailed Prairie Dogs (Cynomys lud...

 

I’ve written before about how much I have learned from Cesar Millan – not just about dogs, but about myself as well.

 

10 Life Lessons From the Dog Whisperer

 

One of Cesar’s common lessons has to do with affection. He cautions owners not to use affection when their dog is in an unstable mental state (usually anxiety, but also fear or aggression). He explains that by applying affection when the dog is unstable only seeks to reinforce that behavior. It’s completely logical, yet not always easy to do. When we see a distressed dog, our first instinct is to comfort it, to try to suppress its discomfort with love. That reaction backfires once the dog realizes that it can garner your loving attention by entering into an unstable place.

 

I’ve been thinking and writing quite a bit lately about my own unstable mental states (we all have a propensity towards one or more). For me, I struggle with becoming (and staying) anxious. I’ve worked on managing my anxiety most of my life and, other than the period after the divorce, it really has never interfered too much with my life. I’m not content with that; however, I want to try to figure out where it comes from and how it grew so that I can strive to venture into anxiety even less.

 

I realized that my ex played an unintentional role in nurturing my anxiety. He didn’t like to see me in distress. When I would get anxious, he would respond by becoming overly affectionate. He would soothe me with words and touch. It was great in the moment. But in the long run? Not so much.

 

It kept me from having to learn as an adult how to get myself out of that unstable state. But even worse, it rewarded anxiety with affection and loving attention.

 

Great. Just the association I want to have.

 

I never realized this connection while I was with him. Why would I? I had my needs met and my nerves soothed. It’s become clearer to me as I’ve gained distance and had to learn how to live first on my own and now with Brock. The first few times Brock didn’t immediately step in to pacify my fears, I was hurt. Upset. Even disgruntled. After all, I saw that as his role.

 

It’s not.

 

Slowly, I started to learn the difference between him being supportive when I truly needed it and enabling my disquieted mind. I had to discern the difference between affection coming from love and affection coming from a discomfort with my mental state. I had to learn how to soothe myself. I guess I hadn’t quite mastered that one in infancy:)

 

Again, I take a lesson from Cesar. He dictates approaching a dog’s behaviors with “exercise, discipline and then affection.” Turns out that sequence works pretty well for this human too. When my mind spins into anxiety, I start by going to gym or heading out for a run. Discipline comes in the form of writing, yoga or meditation. Finally, I’m ready for affection, which at that point, serves to reinforce my calmer state of mind.

 

Cesar says we don’t get the dog we want; we get the dog we need. In my case, I think I got the man I needed too.

BrockTiger

 

 

Taming the Monkey Mind: My Monkey’s Alive

Monkey channel surfing

Do you ever have one of those days where you just feel a little more alive than usual? Everything just seems a little bit clearer. The breath a little lighter? The focus just a little clearer?

I’ve had one of those days today. It’s just a normal Saturday for me – writing, laundry, meditation, gym and a run, and the weekly trip to the grocery store. Usually, I pass through these activities with barely a thought. I get each one done to move on to the next. By the way, that mentality is the absolute anthesis of meditation. There’s a reason I call myself stilllearning2b:)

Today has been just a little bit different. Perhaps it’s related to the clear, sunny skies after being blanketed by rain for the past week. Maybe I’m feeling the freedom of a Monday off work. Or, possibly my mood was lifted by finally replacing my old, partially working headphones with a new, working pair. It turns out that music sounds much better when you can hear it in both ears. The difference between the old headphones, which haven’t worked right for over a year, and the new was so strong that I actually startled when I pushed “play.” I had grown so accustomed to the static and one-sided sound that the clarity coming through felt bigger than life.

That’s kind of how my whole day has felt. I feel like I’ve fully experienced each action today, from the run along the river to selecting apples at the store. I haven’t felt pressure to get it done or to rush on to the next thing. I haven’t grumbled about having to do chores or run errands.

When I started my meditation challenge, I looked at meditation as a separate part of my day. A time set aside to be mindful. I would get it done and then move on to the next item on the list. I’m finally starting to incorporate mindfulness in each moment, which of course is the ultimate goal.

I need to remember this feeling. I need to remember that monkey mind is alive, not just in those moments when I turn inward and focus on the breath, but all of the time. I need to remember that when I am fully present in each moment, I can find joy even in the mundane. I need to remember that I choose to feel rushed and that I can also choose to feel at peace. I also need to remember not to wait so long to replace my broken headphones next time!

Other adventures of my monkey mind:

Taking the Monkey to the Gym

Shaving the Monkey

My Monkey’s Flinging Poo

Experimenting on the Monkey

Embracing the Monkey