Dusting off our Dreams: Is it Time to Imagine Again?
I can still picture it. We’re on a plane and I have the window seat. After hours over the Atlantic Ocean, the landscape that appears below is the prettiest shade of green. Of course it is. After all, it’s called the “Emerald Isle”. Our dream trip to Ireland is about to begin.
Except that it doesn’t.
Along with all the shattered dreams of 2020, our dream was put on indefinite hold. Shoved to the back of the closet like old travel brochures, our dream has been collecting dust for a year now.
Whenever I turn on Irish music or hear an Irish accent, I’m tempted to revisit that dream. The memory was triggered again this past week when my 21-year-old daughter sent me a text on St. Patrick’s Day. On this day of all-things-green, she was feeling blue. She reminded me that it was one year ago that she was forced to leave Ireland, abruptly ending her semester abroad.
We both felt like crying as we pined for what we had lost. Her adventure was cut short in the middle of her spring break trip around mainland Europe. Her classes at the University College of Dublin were finished online, at home, in her bedroom.
My husband’s and my dream trip to Ireland and Scotland didn’t even get off the ground. I often imagine the sights we had planned to see. The Cliffs of Moher bordered by lush green landscapes. Dublin pubs with frothy beverages. Irish dancing and fiddle playing. Scottish moors with tales of bloody clan battles and lochs with legends of elusive monsters.
I spent weeks pouring over my laptop screen–plotting our destinations, arranging transportation, and booking places to stay. Then, as the news of travel bans and worldwide shutdowns took over my screen, all of our plans went “poof!”
What about you?
Which of your dreams were shattered? Weddings? Graduation parties and ceremonies? A new job? A child’s first year away at college? A new relationship? Your own dream vacation?
It’s been a year now of dreams that were shattered, scaled-down, or put on hold. I don’t know about you, but I long to dream again.
The vaccines are rolling out. And there is talk of some semblance of normalcy by mid-summer. Yet, those hopeful reports are followed the next day by rising case numbers (some of the fastest growth rates in my home state of Michigan). We begin to hope. And then our hearts sink again.
Will this pandemic ever end?
I came across this Irish saying this week:
What dreams do you hold dearest? Can you remember your pre-pandemic hopes and desires? I challenge you to find them, dust them off, and begin planning to make them a reality. When hopes are dim and the nightly news turns bleak, turn off the noise. Close your eyes. And imagine better days to come.
Then do your part to make it happen.
Get vaccinated. Wear your mask. Keep your distance. Make sure it’s kindness you spread and nothing more.
On St. Patrick’s Day, I wore green. The color of Irish dreams and daffodil shoots and new life in Spring.
New life gives hope. And hope gives way to dreams. Dreams of hugging friends again. Of having family parties and church picnics. Of going to concerts and movies. Of dancing at wedding receptions. Of hopping on a plane, flying over the pond, and landing on the Emerald Isle.
