Dreaming Awake

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of other’s opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”
S. Jobs

Someone sent me this today. And oh, how my stomach sank! Or my heart, I’m not sure which one. Is there a difference in this context? Anyway, I had this internal reaction to these beautiful words, because I feel guilty.

I feel guilty, because I am not sure that I’m living my life yet. I mean, sure, there are aspects…there are always aspects. But the whole thing? I am not even sure how far away I am right now. Sometimes, I am not sure what it is supposed to look like anymore— what I envision.

Still, I know I feel guilty.

I want to dream awake. I am aware that time is limited. I hate wasting time, that’s why I am such a direct person. Any other way seems inefficient to me. However, I must not despise it enough…because here I am, looking through foggy lenses. I’ve been quiet, but I haven’t been listening. And I certainly haven’t had an admirable amount of courage…

Not yet. I will though. The time is coming.

So I guess, the question I am faced with right now is: how do I reconnect? How do I listen, really listen, like I yearn to? Why has my rhythm been drowned out by such a noisy quiet?

The answers to those questions don’t really matter, you know. What matters are my next steps. What I will do. What I am doing in the meantime. And how I will find it. Get there.

How I will dream awake, as much as possible, with every breath.

The Depths of Love

Last week, I found out that Columbia’s Journalism Department lost a very dear, beloved faculty member- Jim Sulski. Now my experience with Sulski wasn’t extensive. Our interactions the summer I had him as a teacher were nothing to marvel at. However, I was most certainly struck by him. He was brilliant. He was a great teacher, he possessed that magical gift of which he could say just the right thing to encourage students’ minds form the right questions in pursuit of a story or answers. To investigate some, if you will. He was funny and laid-back, charming. I admired him, even in that short amount of time I spent with him.

When I learned of his passing, I was surprisingly stunned. I know I hadn’t seen or heard anything about him in a long while, and perhaps that contributed to my initial shock. So that night, I spent time on the internet reading the tributes former students and colleagues had written to commemorate this remarkable individual who had touched their lives in a simply profound way.

First, there was his teaching. His passion and devotion to good journalism and stories was conveyed through his hands-on approach to teaching, and the award winning Columbia Chronicle. Secondly, there was his love story. This latter bit was something I’ve only heard about second hand. There might be vague fragments of memory floating around in the outter realms of my mind containing an awareness of a wife and familial love. However, I was unaware that he came out of a painful divorce…Then found himself a brand new love story in the likes of the school librarian, Jo Cates.

This latter part received special mention in these tributes I read. People describing how truly and unabashedly in love they were, no matter who was in their presence. A great love was described. The kind of love that inspires and induces awe from those observing. Sulski was an inspiration not just in the way he taught his life’s work, but the way he experienced love with another human being.

I felt amazed by the power of love when contemplating it. When you love something, whether it be a person or passion or endeavor…you have the power to move and be moved. When Ray Bradbury spoke via satellite to Columbia’s 2009 graduating class, he attributed all of his life’s accomplishments to love. Doing everything he did in the spirit of having passion for what he loved. He brought tears to many peoples’ eyes. He was poor and taught himself everything he knew by reading books at the library, and then taking action…which lead him to books, film and numerous collaborations.

That is a love story.

Love has such an immense ability to transform, motivate and inspire. Love can produce the impossible. Love breathes life and stirs us deep. Love is real.

Love comes in so many shapes and forms…I was reminded of 1 Corinthians 13:7  Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Dreams are a form of life, because dreams are imagined means and outcomes for the desires of our hearts…Dreams present us with possibilities. Love hopes and believes all things. If we apply that sort of thinking, that attitude towards the people in our lives, towards our goals and aspirations— How differently might we behave towards such? Might it encourage change? Is it something to be desired?

I think that it is. I talk about love with significant frequency. And I am always seeking to understand and live it better. I hope that my train of thought is understandable, but I needed to type all of this out in hopes that it might mean something to someone. That someone else might read all this, connect it together and to their own lives: desiring to live a life full of such a passion for what they love, that it touches lives.