Unbelievable

Unbelievable

When I was young I was told I can be anything I want when I grow up.

All my dreams would come true if I just believed enough.

The sky is the limit,

I was told.

But the people telling me to shoot for the stars,

The people telling me to dream big,

Well, they’re all grounded in reality.

Mom had dreams of being on T.V.

She wanted to give the news, which was news to me.

Instead she took the safety of a comfortable job.

And, she’s been instilling finger painting knowledge to future something-or-other’s ever since.

And, ever since she’s been coming home and marking off the days until retirement.

Coming home and saying, “Guess what Suzy did today?”

And, “These damn kids can’t sit still.”

And, “It’s like their heads are in the clouds.”

And Pops, he just watches baseball and nods.

Pops is busy is busy retracing the footsteps of his past.

Running that diamond in his mind.

Touching home plate, and waving to the crowd.

But there is no curtain call.

Pops was a star.

He was way up in those clouds.

A major league baseball team gave him a contract and some confidence right out of high school.

Pops was the next big name shortstop.

But his dream was stopped short.

His dream had a time limit.

And, he had to get on with a stable job, and a stable life.

And now it’s, “Baseball players today,” this,

And, “They just don’t play for the love of the game,” that.

Well, if you love something set it free.

I guess.

Pops has been living part of that major league life, though.

He’s been getting passed around and passed on ever since.

Stable jobs need stable legs,

Need a stable back.

Who knew the stable life was so unstable?

As for me,

I’m told I can be anything I want.

Hold on to my dreams and don’t let go,

I’m told.

So, I dreamed big like all kids do.

I let my mind wander in the stars.

But, dreams don’t pay the bills.

You can’t build a house up in those clouds;

It’s too unstable.

And so I wrote off my dreams of becoming writer,

And left the film career on the cutting room floor.

And as for the acting aspirations,

Well, I guess I’ve been playing the part ever since.

…?

            What you have just read is a portion of an unfinished poem I have been working on for almost 2 years now. It sounds strange to say that I have been working on anything for almost two years, let alone a poem. Yet, at the same time it feels very fitting to the new direction of my life. You see, a little over two years ago I made the terrifying decision to leave an old identity behind, and begin the process of shaping an entirely different, entirely unpredictable and entirely new identity. As the fog of self-abuse began to lift from my brain it became suddenly clear to me that I had no idea who I was. I had no substance or character to my life, and I had developed a diluted and fearful view of the world. My life was lacking passion, and I had left it somewhere along the road to life’s current position. “Unbelievable” is an unraveling of how life experiences we hardly notice, experiences that embed deep in our subconscious, actually shape the people we become.

            I think I experienced a major existential crisis at an early age, and the first few stanzas are my not so subtle way of pointing this out. Straight out of the womb we are told that we can be anything we want in this life. For the first few years, dreaming is promoted by everyone around us. Parents, teachers and strangers help to cultivate our sense of curiosity and actively praise us as we walk down the street dressed as Spider-Man. It’s almost certain a handful of these adults still long to wear blue and red spandex to the grocery store, as well. However, the majority of adults have succumbed to reality, and know that their little day dreamers will one day “grow out of it.” They know what we, as children, have yet to comprehend; using your imagination hardly pays the bills.

            I was a sponge, as most children are, and while I’m sure I heard the words, “Shoot for the stars,” the actions of the people speaking these words presented a different reality. As we grow, our subconscious is constantly absorbing the world around us, and even though we don’t notice this, it is slowly formulating opinions that bubble up to the surface. The next few stanzas represent, metaphorically speaking, this process. (I feel the need at this time to point out that my parents are wonderfully caring and hardworking people. Although this poem is based on my life, it is a very condensed version of a complicated process.)

            Growing up I was always told that my dad had at one time had a shot at becoming a professional athlete, and I was also all too aware that, because of a time limit he place on this dream, he had not succeeded. I was not aware, however, that my mom had ever wanted to be anything but a kindergarten teacher. It was a shock to me when I later found out she had gone to college to become a news anchor. So, these few stanzas play out this reality. The reader witnesses, as did I, my mom taking an immediate job that was going to pay the bills, and my father shortly following her lead. Both mom and dad had lofty goals originally, and from a combination of not following through and life’s unexpected curveballs these dreams never became reality. I’m sure neither hated the work they were performing, but both had also never wanted to do what they were now doing. Eventually, when nine to five is just a means to survive, it begins to show in the form of exhaustion, stress and anger. This makes an impression on a young child, as it did me. I also toy with this notion when I make the transition from me being told that the sky is the limit, to my mom coming home and not being able to understand why the children can’t sit still. I try to point out that my parents are not making the connection that they were once little kids with huge dreams, and even though theirs did not become a reality, they are now in a position to cultivate the dreams of others.

            The next stanza about stability, or lack there of, says a lot in a few short sentences. First, I’m pointing out the irony in this misperceived notion of stability. After leaving what was seen as an unstable profession, my father, not for lack of effort, proceeded to land one unstable job after the next. This decision has also served as a constant “what if” that has loomed over his head. This is where I began to formulate my world view that life was meaningless. I could not comprehend a world in which we slaved away our whole lives in order to simply get by. I couldn’t understand why my parents wanted me to waste my time in school when it would only serve the purpose of landing me a slightly higher paying job that I would loath. After all, my mother had gone to college and it didn’t seem to have paid off for her. After wrestling with these thoughts, I dropped out of school, and decided to get busy working. The last line poses a glimmer of hope, however. I present the notion that if there is no guaranteed stability in any of life’s choices, the answer might lie in following the path that brings the most joy. I didn’t understand this logic until recently, though.

            So, the notions of responsibility and financial stability took the place of my dreams. I wanted a career where my creativity and vivid imagination were my biggest assets, but jobs like that seemed more of a figment of said imagination than an actuality. When I was in school I studied business because, well, businessmen make money. After I had dropped out of school I was not succeeding in making any money, and I was still just as unhappy. Eventually, I found something that enabled me to not have to think or feel: alcohol. Alcohol allowed the days to blend into one so that the meaningless time I spent on this planet would be bearable. But, with the temporary sense of comfort alcohol gave me, it also brought a very real sense of terror. I eventually had to weigh my options; continue killing myself or find a new way to make this world worth living for.

            Thankfully, I chose the latter, and this is where the poem leaves off, but my life begins. I have countless journals filled with scribbles of the process of learning how to live again. In the pages of some of these journals are the lessons I’ve learned that will make up the next few lines of this poem. For example, I now see that while my parents’ lives may have turned out differently than they expected, they never gave up. They especially never gave up on me. In fact, they gave everything to me, even a second chance at life. It is from this second chance at life that I have finally realized that life can be whatever you want it to be. Everyday we actively shape the world around us through a filter of previous life experience, and that filter can build us up or break us down. However, sometimes it’s from the bottom that we have the best view. It was at the bottom that I learned to remove my filter, and look at life as a blank slate, or a blank piece of paper as it were. This poem, in its entirety, serves to show that I have chosen to follow my dreams and write again, and that I am the author of my life. I chose to title this “Unbelievable” because, after all, life can be whatever we want it to be, but the hardest part is believing that statement to be true.