#2020 A Year of Resuscitated Dreams

In 2019 I turned 50. I didn’t think too much of it. I didn’t feel 50 and I don’t look 50 so who cares? It’s just a number, right? Weeelll, not really. Because I have to admit since the big 5-0, in addition to creaky knees (seriously??) there has been a little voice inside my head whispering “If not now….when?”. It’s been challenging me – driving me – pushing me.

As another year slips off the calendar and into the past there has also been this subtle voice sowing discouragement in me – whispering “You’re too old!” and “It’s too late.” I had begun to feel that I don’t have enough time left to do all the things that are in my heart to do. There is not just the beauty left to explore but also so much left to pour out into the world; so much inside me left to share.

I want to sit in the shadow of the pyramids and be humbled by the brilliance of my ancestors. I want to delight in years just writing poetry on the banks of the Seine River. Does the breathtaking view of the sunset behind the Eiffel tower ever become banal? I want to find out.

I want to lie under a canopy of stars that hangs low enough for me to collect their sparkle in a jar like bright diamonds. I want to be lulled to sleep by the music of the breeze as it blows through the trees on the banks of the Nile River. Most of all, I want a thousand years to lose myself in worship and marvel as my face begins to shine with His image.

But time…time didn’t seem to be on my side. I’d been putting off my dreams for “one day”. Starving them of breath, hiding them in the back of my consciousness saying, “when I have more time” or “on my next vacation” or “when the kids are grown” and “when the kids are stable”. Then suddenly – suddenly, I was 50 and there didn’t seem to be enough time left to write all the plays, paint all the poetry, choreograph all the shows, see all the music.

For the past six years, I’ve felt a little like Alice in Wonderland. I fell through some rabbit hole or keyhole or something and I found myself lost; stuck in a dimension for which I’d never intentionally set my course. For six years I had been working for NASA and often in quiet moments I”d find myself like Alice thinking “How did I get here?” and more importantly “How do I get back home?”

I was so far off the beaten path from where I thought I’d be at this point in my life that all I knew to do was embrace it; leverage it; make something of it. But after six years, even that began to seem impossible and discouragement became a constant, wearisome companion. By the time 2019 came round, I’d forgotten all my former dreams and even the hopes I’d begun to reach for in this new place seemed just beyond my fingertips.

But that was then. And this is now. This is 2020 – a new day, a new year, and a new decade. I’m calling it the year of resuscitated dreams. No, nothing has changed. I still haven’t attained my new goals, the kids still aren’t settled, I don’t see any vacation time on the horizon. But it’s time. It’s time for my dreams to come off life support, catch their breath, and live again.

This blog is a manifestation of that. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. So today, I did it. No, God didn’t come down from heaven and call GoDaddy for me. I had to find and pay for my own hosting services and even design the site and figure it all out on my own. But it’s my responsibility. I have to open my mouth and prophesy to my own dreams. But it’s more than lip service; I have to be the one to perform the CPR.

This was my step. What about you? I hope you’ll come with me on this journey. No, not back through the keyhole – that was yesterday. I want to go boldly forward into 2020. Into clear vision and resuscitated dreams. If not now, when?

You coming??

Love you Fam! And I’ll be seeing you right here as I continue performing CPR on my dreams. Please leave me some love/likes in the comment section or on FB at @KMCurryAuthor. xo