Dreams

There is a spark in each of us, a glimmer of hope that began life as we did, much larger in scope; before we learned to doubt the quiet belief that we can be - can do - anything.

It is sad that we lose this spark over time, with the proud assistance of our educators and parents; only trying to help us to conform, to fit in.... to meet the expectations that everyone else has of us.

When I had the luxury of time with my children I had nothing in a material sense, but I had a precious gift - the gift that many women nowadays have given up in exchange for a business suit and salary.

I was able to read to my children, gaze in wonder at a waterfall, play by the riverside and suck on cacao seeds; take a long walk without worry about how long we took. Those very short years, so long ago, (while filled with other stresses), were times that I was able to see the spirit of my children most clearly, and they could still see mine.

I wonder now- if, in racing to leave the world of poverty, did I break something important in the process...

At some point I stopped trying to nurture what each of my kids had inside, stopped caring about my own talents, given to me by God, and surrendered it all in the name of having enough to eat and financial security.

I have fought and cried, battled and prayed - for my beautiful kids to behave - to surrender to society's rules and norms, and lost many opportunities to see them in their own light- from their own eyes- from God's.

If my fervent prayer had been answered many years ago, perhaps my living would have been made from my art, instead of the many careers I have ventured into solely to earn a living. But my parents started the cycle, creating a belief in me that artists could not make a living.... that my talent was not worthy of investing money in an education to better.

In pushing my own kids in the same manner- towards careers with potential to earn money for them in the future, I have unwittingly joined the conspiracy.

But! There is still hope. 

A son who prays now - a daughter who begins to believe that she is not too short. If I can still communicate to them to have a bit of trust in God, to believe in themselves and the gifts they have inside... well then I would have given them a far greater gift than an inheritance after death- as they would be able to reach their heights, with no need for anyone else - other than God, and who they choose to have in their lives, without having to take jobs which make them exchange what they love for what they need one day.

I hope there is still time, time in which they are still willing to believe in me- the inadvertent dimmer of those once great and wonderful sparks.

Never put out the lights of another's dreams.

I have honestly always tried to encourage every dream my children, friends.(...even

strangers) have had in life, since my own were circumvented early and only now, in my late

40's, beginning to come back to me again as possibilities.

Life is so much more than we acknowledge it to be, then when we merely work to

succeed financially.   We stop seeing the gifts that are all around us, and those

moments are lost to us as a result.

I hope that the next generation will learn from our mistakes, with careful mentoring from

 those of us who have finally figured it out, and that our grandchildren will be raised

differently, with reverence for their unique talents, and their dreams given nourishment,

And given a place in society to flourish, not just to scrape by if they are not geared  

toward the mainstream academic career paths that we so love to embrace, in the honor of stability, security and conformity. 

We owe the artists, writers, musicians, poets, designers, dancers…..a respectful and

independent place in the future, if it is to have the beauty and wonder it deserves.

Katherine Felix

This piece won a Silver award for Prose in the Literary Arts section of NIFCA in November 2011.