Dreaming
I was about nine the summer my Grampa found a treasure map and asked me and my two little brothers to help him find the treasure. I still remember the thrill when he unrolled that map on the kitchen table. You could tell it was really old. The paper was stained, maybe with blood, and edges were charred. We looked it over carefully and confirmed it was legit. “Pirates?” asked one of my brothers. Grampa shook his head. “We’re too far from the sea. I’d say it was made by an old prospector.”
Sleep came hard that night. We got up super early the next morning and started following the clues. We ended up on an empty lot Grampa owned, right next to their own little house. Once we were sure we were in the right spot, we grabbed shovels and got started. It was tough, but we were willing to suffer for our dream. Sunburn. Blisters. Exhaustion. Gramma would bring lunch to us under the nearby elm tree, the only shade we had. We would fall in bed right after supper–totally spent.
Every morning Grampa would go with us and pull out a tape measure. “Maybe a little more to this direction” he would motion. “I think the whole thing needs to be deeper.” Every day we dug with all we had. By the end of day two the hole was so deep we needed Grampa’s old ladder to get in and out.
On the evening of the third day, he measured again, then looked at the map & nodded. “I think you’re getting really close. I won’t be surprised if you find the treasure tomorrow.” The next morning we raced to the hole, jumped in and sure enough, within minutes a shovel hit a metal cookie tin that rattled with possibility.
We opened it to find genuine treasure! Foreign coins (Mexican pesos). Three old silver dollars. Chunks of agate, obsidian, and quartz with little flecks. Gold, we confirmed, suddenly experts in geology. Rattlesnake rattles. A couple of arrowheads apiece. Three new yoyos! (I guess prospectors got bored!) We were amazed at our find. Magically, everything divided evenly by three so we all had an equal share. We knew it was all a game even as we suspended disbelief, and it was wonderful!
It wasn’t until our next visit a year later that I figured out the rest of the story. After we went home, my grandfather was left with a hole that was the perfect size for a septic tank. He finished a few other preparations, then rented the lot to someone with a mobile home. I’m sure he got the idea from Tom Sawyer’s fence, but I am still in awe. That was some next-level grandparenting!
To this day I remember the anticipation of the dream and the thrill of finally finding that treasure! Children can’t help but dream. Teens and young adults usually still have hopes and dreams. Our confidence is high that if we work hard enough, these dreams will turn to reality one day. And yet, for many of us, they did not.
When was the last time you let yourself dream? For many, life seems to train us to ignore our dreams. Better to not be disappointed again, we tell ourselves. Play it safe. Be practical. Dreams are for children and fools.
This uneasiness with dreaming again is one of the primary obstacles I encounter with clients who want a Second Rodeo but can’t seem to gain traction. The following are some common obstacles we see with people who have (temporarily) forgotten how to dream.
I’m still committed to someone else’s dream for my life
I know I bring this up a lot. That’s because it is so rampant. I work with people who have tamped down their own dreams for decades, focused on being the doctor or lawyer or other archetype of success that their parents or someone else told them to be. I understand the sacrifices we all make to keep peace in the family, but at what cost? Because of the age demographic I work most closely with, in many cases the person(s) who defined the original dream for my clients isn’t even alive anymore. The first step here is to admit that we are living in someone else’s dream. Only then can we go on to star in our own life production!
I don’t want to admit or address my true fears
Fear that I’m too old, too this, too that to make a change. Fear of failure, fear of rejection, fear of commitment. The list of fears that keep us from exploring a Second Rodeo is long, and once again we’re up against that American archetype of rugged independence and fearlessness. Admitting fear is often so culturally discouraged, especially among men, that we’ve lost the ability to know it when we feel it. A counselor friend tells me that with men, fear often shows up as anger. If even this subject evokes anger or frustration, I’d encourage you to unpack it. Your preferable future depends on it.
I’m procrastinating as a manifestation of my perfectionism
If you lean toward perfectionism, you probably already know that about yourself. You can find entire books on this subject, but all I want to say here is that creating a Second Rodeo can be messy. It’s a process of discovery by elimination. There might be some false starts and dead ends. That’s all part of what makes it fun for some and a nightmare for others. If the idea of “dreaming about the future” makes your mental gears seize up, perhaps you’ve created a personal expectation that you have to get this next chapter right, no matter what. That kind of internal pressure would cause most of us to falter.
This list isn’t exhaustive, but maybe it’s enough to help you start to reflect if your dream machine seems to be broken. We’re talking about a fresh start, creating an ideal lifestyle where perhaps work takes on a different priority. Let’s figure out how to jumpstart your dreams once more.
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