Day 57

Letting go is a hard thing to do. It is especially hard to let go of a dream. I generally hold onto my dreams with my whole being, as if my life depends on not letting go. I suppose it does. My ego gets all caught up in the idea of accomplishing what I dream of. But dreams do die and there is a time for letting go.

I dreamed of being a college professor. It was a dream that grew out of a love of books and ideas and heady dialogue and old stone buildings and sleepy college towns. It was a dream that grew out of my desire to inspire and facilitate transformative change. It was a dream that was tied to my longing for security in the form of tenure and a dusty book-filled office. It was a dream that was nourished by confidence in my ability to connect with students and provoke new thought. I play this dream in my mind like a treasured home movie that I have seen a million times. It still moves me to tears.

I have come to realize that I will likely never be cast as the lead in this movie I've been directing. My dream can never be a reality, in part because the Ivy Tower I imagined doesn't really exist. Perhaps it never did. Being a college professor is mostly about the politics of committees, survival publishing and the reproduction of standard paradigms. There is little room for meaningful interaction between students and teachers, let alone critical thinking and innovation. I am simple unwilling and unable to sacrifice my dream for the facade that higher education has become.

It is time to lay this dream to rest. It has been on life support for years now. Every so often there is a small flicker of life: I really connect with a student or meet a professor who appears to be living my dream. I want to revive the dream and keep it alive. I know that I have to stop fooling myself. It is time to let go.

I would like to find a way to let this dream die gracefully. No clinging. No anger. No bitterness. Just acceptance. I know that there is no room for new dreams until I have put this one to rest.