Tuesday, July 05, 2011

Dream Deferred


Sometimes, I sit and frantically listen
Listen to my internal, silent screammm
build, building, building
to maximum decimals
that longs to burst, stumble forth
to be set free

Disappointment, yes
Despair, maybe
Defeat, never

Can you hear it too?
Listen closely
The urgent wailings
tortured groans,
moans
Listen carefully
to my internal, silent scream that screeches and scratches
so loudly that I'm completely numb inside

Numb from dreaming, scheming and screaming
while grasping, clawing for the stars
and beyond
Numb from an internal longing,
a desire so strong
so deep
so organic
so real
so true

To be heard
to have a strong, vibrant voice
not just any voice that blends in with all the rest
to make a big difference in a small way
to be a legend, innovator
to leave a legacy
to be immortal

Sometimes, I sit and silently cringe
Cringe at the invisible ache and puppet strings
that stir and pull my soul
from a deep, guttural place within
This way and that
Bursting free
No rest
No peace

Unable to live and foster my dream
Unacceptable
External forces beyond my control
dream dashers
powers that be
no respect, saturation
diminishing my passion

Inside, my spirit dies piece by piece
like rotting meat
bit by bit
little by little
Each and every day

From the words of Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load

Or does it explode?

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Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Dream In Color

I have this curious thing I can do. I first noticed it around 12 years old, so this ability has been with me for quite awhile. Well, it's not really an ability . . . I'm not quite sure what one would call it.

Occasionally, I can dream something and it comes true or I can dream about a deceased relative, as if I'm talking to them and they are alive and well. Throughout the years, I have had dreams in which an event I dreamt of, actually happened. It may not happen the very next day or happen exactly like the dream, but it happens. Typically within two weeks. Don't believe me? Ask my relatives. The joke used to be: "Electa, don't come calling me talking about a dream you've had. If I was in it, I definitely don't want to hear it." There have also been many instances of visits from deceased relatives either while I'm awake or via a dream. Curiously enough, I'm not ever frightened. I always say, "We have nothing to fear from the dead, it's the living we should be afraid of."

Roughly two nights ago I experienced such a dream. I remember falling asleep with my thoughts clearly focused on my mother. I had a lot on my mind, situations that were bothering me. When my mom was alive she was one of the few people I could talk to who always put my mind at ease with just a few encouraging words. I would call her up sad or upset about something or another and it never failed, with just a few words of wisdom, in a calm, reassuring voice, my soul would be put at ease. Just like that. I never doubted her wisdom. Usually, I'd hang up the phone with my spirit lifted, laughter in my soul and seeing the problem in an entirely new light. How I miss those conversations and having someone in my life who can reassure and make everything okay in my world.

Right before dozing off that night, I recall silently asking God to send me some sign that my situation would work it's way out for the best. In the past, I've always asked for my sign to be something specific, like a red butterfly or a purple flower. For whatever reason, this time I didn't specify. Being exhausted, I fell asleep pretty quickly. That's what I do. When I have a problem I sleep and sleep and sleep.

The next morning I awoke feeling refreshed and eager to start a new day with a burst of energy. All was well in my world.

As I started my day, I vividly recalled the dream I had the night before. Most of the time, I never recall entire dreams, only bits and pieces. In my dream, myself, my sister and my mom were sitting in the kitchen at her house. The kitchen always was the central gathering spot, the center of activity. I was seated in the bar stool/chair at the counter, Tresseler (my sister) was at the kitchen table and my mom, as usual, was cooking something on the stove and drinking a cup of coffee.

To be honest, I don't remember any of the conversation. I just recall we were laughing and having a good time being in each other's company. And most of all, I recall the emotion I felt in the dream. That was what stuck with me and greeted me the next morning like an old, long lost friend. For a brief moment in time, my mom was back and I felt the familiar blanket of security and peace back in my life. I experienced the sensation of pure, unconditional love embrace and envelope me like a silky cocoon. And I awoke with the feeling, though never spoken directly to me, that everything would be okay. This too shall pass. . .

The words softly caressed my soul, lovingly whispered in my ear. And you know what, it did pass.

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Saturday, June 13, 2009

What If?

Seems like I've been playing the what if game lately. I guess we all have at one point or another in our lives. It's only human nature, to be curious about other paths we could have taken.

Most of us recall reading Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken in high school English literature class. My favorite lines were:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


Recently, the query started because a girlfriend and I were discussing what if we had never gone to University of West Georgia (which at the time we attended, had a minority popoulation of 4%) and had gone, instead, to a predominately black university or college. We debated back and forth on the merits of each. However, when it was all said and done, we never stopped to think that if we hadn't attended UWGA, we wouldn't have met each other her sophomore year, my junior year and formed a lifelong friendship and bond.

Her what if question got me to thinking about other situations in my life as well.

What if I hadn't majored in marketing and instead pursued my dream of becoming a pyschiatrist?

What if I hadn't married so young?

What if I hadn't moved back to the metro Atlanta area?

What if I had decided not to have children?

What if I had married someone else?

What if I wasn't so emotional?

What if I had never accepted my first job in Chicago?

What if I had moved to New York?

What if I had followed my dreams early on to become a writer?

I could sit here and what if myself to death. The what ifs are all part of human nature. We are curious creatures. We always wonder what's on the flip side of the coin because the grass always look greener on the other side.

I've learned to not worry or concern myself with the what if factor because we are exactly where we are suppose to be at this point in time. No matter what path we choose, the rural country road or the interstate expressway, the destination will be the same. Life isn't a series of coincidences; it's all part of a masterplan. And God doesn't make mistakes.

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