Wanting to dream
Posted on | January 15, 2007 |
My eyes ache tonight, from crying and laughing both, and I’m on the verge of being sick. I spent the weekend away with a close friend, talking over sushi and Japanese beer, about the way things really are. How everything in my life right now is like a delicate broken china cup, held together with dime store glue, and the tea is very hot.
We went rock climbing. I haven’t climbed since before I was pregnant, and my mind and body marveled at the sudden feeling vertical; instinct sending rapid telegraphs along tendons, muscles quivering. My heart thrumming in my chest, chalk on my palms, and then swinging out into open space at the top of the wall before the belay down. It felt good to simply say, I don’t know. And also to say my heart is breaking, but that I’m hopeful. Very hopeful.
Because this is true. I am. And I have reason to be. We’re talking now, daily, and part of what we’re talking about is what really matters. Sometimes it feels a bit like walking through the odds and ends of furniture and relics in an antique store looking for a particular set of silver spoons, but we’re finding things we didn’t know we wanted or cared about at all.
And it’s hard to say what it is we really want. We thought this was it: on this land, in this house, but somehow we’re drowning here. Debt swallowing up our love, and our freedom both. And also, because though we dreamed of this: mossy wooded trails and apple trees and kind neighbors, we never thought to ask ourselves when we wanted this, and what else we really wanted in our lives.
So we’re starting over, and asking this: what really matters? And our answers shock us both. To see the night sky in Australia. To bike together across Europe. To travel through the west with Bean and hike the mountains there. To shout out into the vast space of the Grand Canyon. To work on a coffee plantation in Central America. To spend a month on a sailboat. To teach in a foreign country. To have another child. To write. To publish. To live a life rich with experience.
Startled, we look at each other from opposite ends of the couch. Maybe we want more than this, here, right now. Maybe we need more, to keep us whole.
And also, when I came back after a night away, hugging him, pressing my head into his chest in that place right under the curve of his chin, I felt like I was home.
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24 Responses to “Wanting to dream”
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January 15th, 2007 @ 10:24 pm
So good, all of it. I can’t tell you the relief I feel when you reassure us that you are going to be okay. It’s okay to get to where you are, with what you thought you wanted, and find that things have changed. It’s so good that you can express this, how brave and honest and trusting you BOTH are.
As the poem says, or to paraphase it, I hold you in my heart, and want nothing but what your dreams can weave for your future. (And especially if it holds another wonderful, wiggly Beaniest of another baby. Yeep!)
January 15th, 2007 @ 10:25 pm
That is so beautifully written. I can feel your angst in those words. I hope you come to a peace about where you want to be, and that you have unity in your decisions.
January 15th, 2007 @ 10:32 pm
Shivers and tears and wonder and wow. I feel so close to this post, like so many of your writings. We’ve had that discussion, ached at the brilliance of our home and yet, not known for sure that it’s right for us. We too are restless and trying to find our way and then I read your words and say yes and feel better that another someone feels these emotions and this tug. It’s going to be an amazing life for us, if we can only say yes and step out into the void.
January 16th, 2007 @ 12:58 am
i completely hear where you are right now. you are in the questions. and in the great search.
several years ago, my husband and i owned a house, a bungalow built in 1916. we thought that was what we wanted. we had married the year before. we had a scary cancer diagnosis that we had just dealt with. we wanted stability. we wanted a house. but a year or so went by and we were left with big dreams that wanted out of that house, and out of super stability, and we started to say out loud that perhaps we were wrong. that house, owning a house, staying in one place wasn’t working at all. we had big dreams of travel like the two of you have now. and we sold that house, had a gigantic yard sale, put the rest in storage and went travelling for year. it was in that year that we really reconnected to not only each other, but with what our true and real dreams were. we felt younger, more in tune in our marriage. we wrote a lot in that year. we camped with our dog. we hiked. we watched sunsets. we wandered. and we did it together. why am i telling you all of this? because i can hear you listening to the whispers in your life and it is going to take you places you never imagined. you are a gem.
January 16th, 2007 @ 1:05 am
Your honesty and fearless searching is an inspiration to me as I struggle with many of the same issues in my own marriage.
I’ve done some reading on the outer marriage and the inner, or soul, marriage. It sounds like you and your husband have started the difficult work of alchemizing your outer marriage, fruitful and beautiful though I am sure it still is, into the boundlessness of the soul marriage. And I cheer you on and wish you luck and love.
January 16th, 2007 @ 1:10 am
getting out of debt is definitely something to work on.
January 16th, 2007 @ 2:01 am
I know these feelings; I am a farmer and a free spirit, so this dichotomy sometimes makes me long for greener grass on either side.
The debt kinda sucks. We’re frolicking in bad credit, ourselves. Misery loves company, so grab yourself a beer. Cheers!
January 16th, 2007 @ 2:38 am
Oh go! Both of you, go! Life is too short to settle so early. Go together!
January 16th, 2007 @ 6:47 am
i feel like the reality bug but i’ve been going through this for a while now too.
i do know these feelings. but, the reality is you have a child and bean needs stability.
the world is a different place once you have babies, it becomes about them and not you. i mean you have one baby so you could go travel around the world but how difficult it would be and how much he would not remember, children need routine to be assured and comfortable.
i am an ex wanderer of the earth. now housebound with 2 babies. i long for freedom and to see once again the stars in the cambodian night sky, to travel india with abandon.
goodness, to just go get a pedicure!
but, the reality is. i can’t. i now live in an apartment building on the 8th floor. i have no yard, no trees, no hiking trails.
i understand your woe but you must try and find happiness in the simple things. i too find it hard but i am learning.
with kids come radical change and life is altered. unless of course you are rich….money can buy freedom but that’s really all.
January 16th, 2007 @ 8:30 am
I realize that debt is probably a factor, but what if you keep your roots where they are and plan annual big adventures for the summer, when you are out of school? You could rent out your house to a wealthy New Yorker or Bostonian eager to spend time in “the country.”
Warm wishes that you find what is best for the three of you. I think that Bean will thrive on whatever keeps you and DH full of joy.
January 16th, 2007 @ 9:15 am
you’re doing big brave things here. ((hugs)) just for that. keep on keepin an open mind, i bet some scary decisions are ahead, but not the bad-scary, more exciting-scary.
sending you good vibes on your journey!
January 16th, 2007 @ 10:48 am
debt is one of the biggest problems amongst young couples. and it’s very serious. yes, being creative can happen on the drawing board and on the computer screen, but being creative is also looking you AND your husband in the eye to solve. what really matters is not the things you have been dreaming about, it’s your marriage, your family.
i like what lotus had to say: find happiness in the simple things.
January 16th, 2007 @ 11:47 am
as i think about making a big change in my life, this post speaks to me. good for you both for asking the tough questions and not being scared to change your life again.
January 16th, 2007 @ 12:10 pm
Beautiful post. Huge relief to see your honesty. Huge surprise to read so many opinions expressed.
How can you write the amazing books that we will all want to own if you don’t follow you heart(s)? Go! Live your Love.
People, the Bean will travel well nestled in the heart of his family.
January 16th, 2007 @ 1:45 pm
i think you should follow your dreams. you are obviously very gifted and should not let the place you are now stifle that. your son will learn alot as you travel. all children really need is their parents to love each other and to be together as a family. go follow your dreams. and when you do, i want to read about them!
tara
January 16th, 2007 @ 2:45 pm
you post was very touching and very scary to me. i am 30..just approaching the altar this July and hoping to have kids shortly after. You make me wonder if I should do a bunch of things before i have kids…or can i believe as you said that you can do such things with kids. is it realistic? can you really do things like bike through europe with kids..or is it, like your post’s title just a dream?
January 16th, 2007 @ 9:00 pm
Listen to that little voice inside you… it is your deepest truth. Yours and yours alone. And it will guide you, if you trust it to do so. The thing is… sometimes you need to be really, really quiet to hear it — and really, really brave to heed it. But in the end, you will be so glad you did. What is it they say? You never regret the things you did as much as you do the things you didn’t. I think that’s true.
Blessings to all of your on your journey — wherever it takes you.
January 16th, 2007 @ 11:02 pm
I love this line: “Debt swallowing up our love, and our freedom both.” At least you can identify it as such and not fall into the easy trap of running eachother into the ground. Huzzah for hope and all things good coming of it.
January 16th, 2007 @ 11:22 pm
Buechner wrote…”follow your gladness…” and your hearing it, even through the pain and brokenness.
Starting over, knowing what really matters, those are the things that provide stability and roots. Not in land but in your soul…
Keep reaching.
Your gifts are enriching my journey.
January 17th, 2007 @ 5:40 pm
Yeah, we thought we knew what we wanted, what we could live with and couldn’t live without. Now here we are, too, in a world that seemed to right, but it was all an illusion and hind-sight, as they say, is 20-20. So we are here trying to enjoy our life with our beautiful son and our obstinate mastiff, trying to get out of the debt of moving twice in one year - monetary and emotional debt. We dream of a place with seasons - snow, red leaves, jackets - and land to have a greenhouse. But that will come later after other things are put in order first.
If you two want something, Christina, GRAB it and hold on. Go after it and don’t stop!! Little Bean will only be a better and stronger person because of it. He’s young and though they need stability, they also are in many ways flexible. Good vibes and hugs to you all!!
January 18th, 2007 @ 8:00 am
Brave Christina. You are not one to play small. I love that about you. xo
January 19th, 2007 @ 9:25 am
what inspiring thoughts your kind heart fosters. and what a truly wonderful thing to start over. to dream new dreams.
February 4th, 2007 @ 5:01 pm
When I was three, my parents crossed oceans.
At the time, relinquishing their house was akin to a death - after all, owning a home is the Great Australian Dream - and, as my mother tells it, the extended family was in a terrible state over it.
But they went anyway. For two years. I recall my father saying at the time - “There will always be houses but there will never be another time..”
And even though very young back then, I remember it all - vividly and in living colour. The sights, sounds, people and smells have never left me and it surely shaped my world as school has never done (and probably never could). My horizons were different as was my language - a paragraph cannot convey the riches travelling has brought to my life. Indeed, I have travelled since and, should I have children, I will travel with them too.
I say this: you can travel with children. What’s more, children benefit from the wisdom of travel. Stability lies in what your child gleans from your heart - because there is never any true security. Not in a house. Not in a bank account. Not in a job. And when it all goes - and it will - what then can you give your child but the gift of viewing the world from a different perspective?
So.
If he is willing and you are wanting, go.
February 20th, 2007 @ 3:01 pm
brave
I wish you luck
I think now, in between fantasies of childless travel, and babe he could devote himself to (I know he wants that, deep down)…
that maybe it could only work if it was only us two. And I also think it could only work if it was more than two.
I have no idea what makes whole. For life.
Probably all options. It’s just too big a mystery for me.