Dreams. We’ve all got em.
There are two kinds of dreams-two uses for the word. There are the kinds we have while we’re sleeping, and the kinds we have when we feel our desire to wake up to life in a new way.
I might dream of being a medieval knight, for instance, kneeling in a courtyard, my helmet at my side. But I ain’t no knight in shinin’ armor. Closest I get to jousting is slinging a guitar over my shoulder, and my trusty steed is just a seven speed cruiser bike named Green Irene.
Sure, moments of chivalry occasionally occur, but my motivation for doing what I’m doing is as selfish as it gets. Pure hedonism. I want to do what I love because I love it. Period. It’s for me. At least that’s usually the way I see it.
Ideally, I love the idea of being more selfless, more noble, more worthy of the Round Table—in my pursuit of the Muse, but the truth is that writing songs is something I just need to do to stay alive.
That’s the form my waking dream takes: I keep bringing myself back to sip from the sweet well of Spirit that makes me feel in touch with the core of myself. Songs and poetry are the byproduct. But that’s the dream that wakes me up when I pursue it. MY dream. MINE. I’m thirsty for it. I need it or I feel dehydrated, so I beat a path down to that water and slurp it up every day like a desert animal does when it smells the delicious mist of an oasis.
Occasionally, though, the deeper value and purpose of my craft rises from that fathomless water like Excalibur in the hand of the Lady of the Lake.
Much of the correspondence I’ve received over the course of this campaign has served as that sword. And that sharp blade has temporarily cut through my illusion of separateness. Thanks for that.
There’s some kind of paradoxical nobility that arises out of being uncompromisingly true to my own “selfish” dream.
One of my favorite emails I’ve gotten in the last few weeks was from a backer who thanked me for inadvertently waking him up to his own unpursued dreams, the unlived life lurking in his own bones, gut, and heart. He said that after watching my video, he’d ended up devoting a whole session to the topic with his therapist.
I was literally moved to tears by the email, and by numerous others.
We’re all scrambling around in this world doing the best we can to survive, y’all. We all know that, too. We also all know it’s a rare blessing to have the opportunity and means to chase after anything beyond that basic survival.
You’ve helped me to be able to do that.
You are my ladies of the lake.
Because of you, I get to feel like a knight, at least a little bit.
For a little while.
Thanks for helping make a dream come true.