Dream 07.04.16
09:17

In dreams, everything happens in slow motion. Our memories of them typically never last long at all, and we forget them within sometimes minutes after awakening. But while we sleep, we seemingly watch them for eternity, leaving us to experience every emotion, fear, and exhilaration in full.

Last night, I had a dream in which I visited Chagrin Falls High School (my recent Alma Mater) in the future, and I stood in a crowded, white-walled room that resembled the senior lounge of the Commons. It was May of next year, and the rising seniors had already selected colleges to attend In standard Chagrin tradition, they announced their destinations by painting a mural made from each college logo. I saw the mural and it overwhelmed my emotions with an avalanche of surprise and nostalgia. A Harvard logo hung proud, as did a Northwestern one, three of Duke for soccer scholarships, what seemed to be a WashU, and a faint USC (my destination) among plenty other logos for remarkable colleges. I went around to random seniors to congratulate them on not only their upcoming graduation, but also the destinations they had secured, all of whom humbly took in my words and expressed excitement through theirs. They weren’t necessary, though — I could see their excitement in their natural glow, adding to the celebratory mood of the room. I felt a flood of admiration for these individuals, but observing the wall left my emotions in a warzone.

After about ten minutes, everyone had cleared out of the room, leaving only me, the buzzed thoughts that swam haphazardly around in my head, and two of my fellow classmates. Breaking the silence, I began to tear up, and one classmate walked across the empty room to console me. As I peered into her kind, sapphire eyes, she asked me, "Why are you crying?" over and over, and each time I couldn't piece together the words to explain it, just as I couldn't piece together the reasons I felt this way. Through my increasing sobs came only one response: "I don't know, I genuinely do not know."

As they always do, my emotions took irrational lengths to try and justify why staring at a wall could overwhelm me so much. In the crowded room, I lived through the seniors, feeling each and every blurred experience with full clarity, like their accomplishments were my own. My vision of the wall enhanced and I saw the acrylic colors on the wall with renewal: the deep cardinal of USC's logo resonated instead with a shocking crimson against an alluring gold. The seniors emanated an aura of joy, and it stirred up a similar ecstasy within me. My emotions heightened among their contentment, but after the room had cleared, I envied them. I filled with grief while the other classmate and I sadly reminisced that electric time of our lives. In reality, we didn't appreciate the magnitude of having someplace to go after we graduated, let alone, getting into our dream schools.. Every experience I had as a senior was emotionally-rooted, but unfortunately, I didn’t have time to stop everything in my life and take in the sweet, nor the bitter. The stress of managing life at the time didn’t allow it, so I instead replaced my emotions with just numbness. I was jealous that the seniors in my dream could experience their final year of high school with full introspection. But the pit in my stomach grew with the sobering realization that I didn't get that chance; I lived in the real world, not that of my dreams.

But ironically, I also felt bliss. Standing alone in that room, the flashy names of Ivy League schools and other top universities spoke novels for the work that each student had put into their education and their life. I applauded them, and that applause was for myself as well: I finally appreciated the plentiful hours of dedication I put into each of my endeavors and how they paid off. As if that wasn’t enough of a motivator, I recall seeing a list of college choices in a school newspaper later in the dream, making out one senior’s name under a USC logo. My eyes widened, my lips slowly curved upwards, and I glanced from the paper to her face of pure glee. For some reason, I knew that I inspired her to look at that school, and I knew that I was a factor to her happiness. My trailblazing action of being the first person from Chagrin to attend USC in over 25 years had actually made somebody strive for a similar outcome, and that made all the difference in my subconscious.

I awakened with a newfound feeling of sonder: the realization that even the most arbitrary of individuals (in this case, those in the Class of 2017) have lives as intricate and complex as my own. In the year ahead of them, they have their senior years to enjoy, acceptance letters to receive, and goodbyes to say, just as I had mine only months ago. I experienced fleeting nostalgia as well, remembering senior year as fondly as I had lived it, and almost wishing to return to Chagrin in the fall.

Yet most importantly, I awakened with inspiration. This dream reminded me of the supreme importance of living life as if it is a dream, with full consideration, appreciation, and serenity of the now. That being said, I realize that my goal in life is to impact people in the best way I possibly can. Seeing the USC-bound student’s face made me recognize that being a role model is what I strive for. I want to use my experiences to help others understand their true potential, and when I saw the wall, I saw that potential at work. I saw exuberance on the faces of students whose logos hung with pride after years of hard work. I saw how having a role model can fill a chaotic and nonsensical world with serenity, hope, and ambition, whether in fantasy or reality. And from that, I saw that my goal is to be that very role model, that beacon of hope illuminating the path through this foggy and confusing life.