Dreams, strange ones

I had an appointment at 4 p.m. with my former piano teacher, yet I had time to kill. Therefore, my mother dropped me off at the local thrift store to shop for shoes. She was supposed to be back in time to take me to my lesson, yet at 4:12, she was still no where in sight. When I found her eventually, she seemed oblivious to my predicament, at which point I unleashed a volley of invectives.

As soon as those harsh words escaped from my mouth, I awoke from my dream. My first thought: it's Sunday. My second thought: I didn't do any work yesterday so I have to work today. My third thought: I hate work. My fourth thought: "Whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." I felt immediately convicted and confused, as if this dream was supposed to have some spiritual significance. I usually don't read much into my dreams since they usually don't make sense, yet this one is making me pause.

The strangest part of this dream was that even as I was yelling at my mother, I felt a sense of guilt welling up inside. This incident could have been avoided if I had simply told my mother about this appointment ahead of time, and I also could have sought her out earlier rather than wait around for her to pick me up. As I was yelling at her in my dream, I realized this truth. Yet it felt good to unleash my anger on someone else and it was much easier to blame others than to take responsibility for my own actions.

This particular thought hit home as I realized the way I have been approaching work lately. My mind has been drifting between two worlds: the present, laborious, day-in, day-out tasks of lesson planning, grading papers, and going to meetings vs. the amorphous future that ever titillates my imagination. My approach to work these days has been to put off responsibility whenever possible, since I am too tired or otherwise preoccupied to do what I'm supposed to do.

"Whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." This reminder both convicts yet annoys me. It's easier said than done.

A page out of my journal: February 10, 2005

Surely, meeting this guy has not changed my life, but it has infused a
fresh perspective in me. Being a teacher is being able to see the
potential in another person, even when he or she cannot see it within
him/herself. This guy was able to get out of selling drugs and living
a "messed-up" life because one of his former teachers called him out.
But being able to see someone's potential is not enough. A teacher
must have the courage to speak truth, to provide opportunities for
growth, and to be patient even when people don't respond well.

Sometimes I get this inkling that I will be severely challenged, maybe
even persecuted some day down the road. Though right now I am
comfortable, I don't imagine things will be always be this way.
Comfort leads to apathy. I do not ever want to be apathetic, for
apathy kills the soul.


What happens when you realize that your older self is wiser than your current self and you have become the very person you vowed never to become? What happens when you grow cynical and tired, and the brightness of yesterday's ideals have been dimmed due to the dreary circumstances of today? What happens when you begin to hope for a change, yet you are afraid that you might not be strong enough to go through the fire?


I wonder if this morning's dream was supposed to nudge me back into life somehow. Music and writing -- two forces that once occupied the forefront of all my creative energy -- are so much on the peripheral now that I must focus my energies on teaching. Perhaps I am late for my appointment with these creative forces? Perhaps I need to stop waiting for them to find me and take proactive measures to seek them out? Perhaps I need to start taking responsibility for my own actions, rather than blame my work for making me tired and stressed all the time...

I've been reading a book lately (loaned to me by a friend): China Road by Rob Gifford. Whenever I read books of this sort, my heart leaps and I wish that I could have a writer's life.


[Baby steps]