A while back, I participated in a writing workshop. Since most of my writing typically gets done in the depths of the night and far, far away from the world, I was pretty out of my comfort zone writing with other people and then sharing it as a (very) rough draft.
But, honestly, it was helpful.
The professor leading the workshop would give us a topic and we had 10-15 minutes to write whatever we wanted.
Some wrote poetry, some constructed (very) short stories, and others wrote more personal essay type narratives.
Then we would share a portion of our work and get feedback.
It was a good experience and the professor was very knowledgeable and helpful, but I don’t really remember a lot from that workshop.
Except for one topic: between.
Between.
What a strange thing to write about.
Some examples are more obvious: the time during college when we’re between being a child and an adult.
Summer, the time between school years.
Between boyfriends.
Between jobs.
Between seasons.
But I didn’t write about any of that.
“I know you’re torn/ and in-between dreams/ but it’s all you’ve ever known.”
That line from Thriving Ivory’s “Love Alone” was all I could think about.
I’ve always had dreams. Really, really big and ambitious dreams. Even when I was little.
The first dream I remember is wanting to be a movie star. I’d watch the outtakes at the end of movies and think how awesome it would be to be an actress and be on set. One summer, I took my parents' video camera and was determined to remake the movie “Beethoven” with our dog. (Spoiler alert: the project was abandoned due to an uncooperative St. Bernard.)
Then I wanted to be a singer. I’d take my CD player outside and sing to all of my favorite songs. I’m fairly certain I still know all of the words to Play’s “Cinderella.”
Next up was undercover CIA agent. I had this grand illusion of me saving the world and having a new name and identity before anyone knew it was me.
The longest (and most plausible) dream came in the form of a professional horse trainer. I was going to go to University of Findlay in Ohio specifically for their western equestrian studies program. I’d be the one to beat at all the biggest shows, and casually Snapchat Charlie Cole and Jason Martin because we’d be BFFs.
Obviously that didn’t happen.
I convinced myself I could be a great audio engineer and came to Nashville for school.
LOL, nope.
Producer for live sporting events.
Next.
Video editor.
Rain check on that one.
Sports writer.
Maybe. But probably not.
I’ve always had a dream. I’ve always had that end goal. Always had something great to strive for.
NFL Films. The Players’ Tribune. National Geographic.
There’s always been something. Always.
But lately not so much.
Between dreams.
At some point, I guess we all feel a little big stuck, a little bit incomplete. And even though it’s only for a moment or two, I don’t like the feeling.
I’ve always felt like I could do anything. Like limits were only illusions meant to hold me back. But I’m not easily fooled and I saw through all of that. Only now I’m not so sure.
I’m the one to take the world head on. I’m the one always pushing for more. I’m the one always trying to be better. But now I’m the one sitting quietly in the corner, observing life rather than being an active participant.
I know it’s fleeting. I know everyone, at some point, feels like this, and it doesn’t last forever. I know it’s probably just the depressing music and thunderstorm outside my window. I know that. But for right now, I’m between dreams.
For right now, I’m a little lost, not because I don’t know where I am, but because I don’t know where I’m going.
There used to be a time when everyone told us what to do, but now they’re all sitting on the sidelines, silent, on the edge of their seats, waiting in anticipation to see what the next move will be.
But I’m waiting to see what the next move is, too. Because this time, I don’t know.
What do you do in the moments between dreams?
Maybe nothing. Maybe you just wait patiently until a new dream reveals itself.
At least that’s what I’m doing.
