Dreams and Dream Killing

Even though my kid is only a little over two years old, the household battles over how to deal with dreams have been joined in earnest. I, as you might imagine, am literally fueled by dreams. The prospect of working a nine to five till I'm 65 is horrifying. If I were to have to accept this as my fate, those in my life would find me insufferable (or more insufferable, I should say). My wife, on the other hand, is a very down-to-earth person. She finds contentment in the most important things in life, which means my grand dreams are a little hard to relate to. More than occasionally, I hear her say something like, "I have everything I want in life. I don't need all that." So it isn't hard to imagine that when we talk about how to deal with the dreams of our children, we often sit on islands apart, shouting at each other over the waves.

From my perspective, the most important thing is to nurture dreams, especially for young people. In my book, there's nothing worse for a kid than having parents who say, "Oh, you can't do that. That's for other kids." Or, "Your chances of making it as a ____ are pretty much nil, so don't waste your time." Infuriating! My motto has always been that determination is an adequate substitute for talent in all but the rarest cases. What follows from that is the notion that children need to figure out where they want to apply their determination. That means they have to see all big dreams as achievable, at least initially.

Can every kid be a professional musician? Who knows? I know guys who make a good living as musicians who will tell you that they worked for every note. They'll say that they started with little or no talent, but that they loved music so much that they put in the time to get good. And eventually, that's exactly what happened. Perhaps music is special in that regard. But what about sports?

Certainly sports require some degree of inherent talent, particularly at elite levels, so it's reasonable to say that no amount of determination will offset genetic inferiority. Fair enough, however we still have to account for the concept of late bloomers. Isn't it conceivable that an awkward but dedicated pre-teen might come out on the other side of puberty as a graceful and talented athlete? I bet there are pros out there who tell a story like this. My point is that when it comes to kids, there's simply nothing to be gained by dream killing. Or is there?

My wife's position is a little more practical. She is on board with the idea that you nurture whatever interests your kids have. However, she is only willing to let things play out until the potential for problems arises. Then, it's time for a little dose of reality. For example, suppose little Sally wants to be a pro figure skater. She does alright at the pre-teen levels, but isn't exactly a consistent winner in competitions. Nevertheless, she loves it and wants to keep on with the several hours of training a day. She has Olympic aspirations. Putting aside the burden this puts on the parents (both financial and logistical), what should they do?

Should they let her keep plugging away when they believe deep in their hearts that she's headed for a big fall? Or should they be her dream killers? Tough call, and at this point, I really don't know what I'd say. I know what my wife would say - "Sweetheart, it's time to start looking into other hobbies." She'd probably make up an excuse to soften the blow, all for the daughter's own good, of course. But, in the end, she'd do her the favor of placing reality starkly in her view.

Talk about harsh, but isn't life just that? It's a fantasy to believe that just because you want something, it will happen. I believe this is the essence of Hume's Naturalistic Fallacy - confusing what is desired with what is. But just when you think you know reality, someone comes along and smashes it. Anyone remember Spud Webb? Here's was a little 5'7", 135lb guy who played successfully for a dozen years in the NBA. He even won the Slam Dunk Contest in 1986. Here's the pic -



Spud Webb was one bad mo-fo, and I can only imagine what people must have said to him as he was growing up expressing his dreams of playing in the NBA. "Ha ha, you must be crazy. You need to ladder to climb up to the bench! (Insert full-body fits of laughter and screaming from all present.) You'll never play real ball." And, of course, as in all Cinderella stories, the wicked did not have the last laugh. Great, but so what, right? All this proves is that occasionally some people beat the odds.

Yes, but who will it be next? This is the hook upon which I hang my attitude about dreams. I really do believe my wife's perspective is valid, and in many ways, it is perhaps most humane - after all, the higher the cliff, the harder the fall (until you get to terminal velocity - ah, shutup). Maybe there's a middle ground here - some place between the all-out unrealistic pursuit of grand dreams and the negativity of dream killing. I think there may be.

It's an important question as to why one adopts a particular thing as a dream. Is it for the pure love of the endeavor? Or is it for the fame? Or the money? Or a boy or girl or lifestyle? I'd say that you can cure most dream dilemmas by taking this question head-on. I knew a guy in college who was probably the most talented guitar player I've ever seen or heard. Once, when we got him drunk enough, he indulged us with a rare performance. But this was no ordinary "sitting around the living room watching a guy play guitar" performance. He suggested that we start telling a story, and that each person pick up the story where the last person left off, and that each new person take the story in a new emotional direction. He played the soundtrack.

Can I just say, even now, more than a decade later, I get chills thinking about how unbelievable this was. He KILLED it. The funny parts were bouncy and had everyone smiling. The sad parts were gut wrenching (even though the story was pretty weak). There was even a part about jealousy that he nailed with such taste that those of us who pretended to play instruments were equal parts flabbergasted and green as a cucumber. When he finished, with all the girls still fawning over him, he was asked why he wasn't playing for a living. "Why aren't you like the biggest star everrrr?" His response seemed crazy then, but now I understand it.

Virtuoso: "Music bores me. I have been able to play anything I've wanted note for note since I was probably ten years old - Eddie Van Halen, Hendrix, and even Joe Satriani. I'm what they call a child prodigy. So the prospect of getting up and playing something totally easy and totally boring day after day doesn't appeal to me. Tonight was the first time I've played a guitar in probably six months."

Fawning Girl: "Oh my God!! You're kidding! (Slaps him on the leg. Classic IOI - Indication of Interest.) Yeah, but you're so good. You could be totally rich and famous!"

Virtuoso: "Yeah, but I'd still have to be somebody's jukebox. No thanks." (Plays it cool. Leaves with the girl. Mental high-fives all around.)

Wow! Was this guy centered or what? There, at his fingertips, he had what most people want more than anything else, and he had the foresight to know that it wouldn't make him happy. Imagine if the kids on American Idol had that kind of mindset. Sadly, most of them would do anything to be rich and famous, including deluding themselves into believing they're talented, which brings me back to dream killing.

I think you can avoid the kill or no-kill conundrum by encouraging people to adopt dreams that are a direct mainfestation of passion. To sing to be famous is to express a passion for the attention of strangers in an indirect way. I would bet that this little litmus test for the legitimacy of dreams will knock out the lion's share of aspirations that are likely to end in tears - if your dream is not legit, I don't really have a problem killing it. And, most dreams, I would say, are illegitimate.

Dream of being rich? Why? So people will look up to you and whisper as you walk by, "You know that guy's a millionaire..."? Paleeese. That's classic caveman status-seeking. Once you push it aside, you find that the only legitimate reason to want to be rich is to be free - free to do what you want, when you want, for as long as you want - a life of want-tos, not have-tos. Want to be famous? Same thing - caveman. It doesn't apply now, so forget it. In fact, I can't think of a legitimate reason to want to be famous, unless it is the vehicle to getting rich, which is the vehicle to becoming truly free. But then you're abtsracted away into indirect expressions of your desires. There are more direct and probable routes.

If your dream is to be free - statistics would tell you to become a business-person - sales, real estate, entrepreneur, etc.. Determination in that arena is really all it takes. No talent required. Trust me on that. There are hundreds of books that tell you exactly what you have to do. You only need the drive, courage, and the patience to do it. (Don't believe me? Ever met a rich idiot? I rest my case.) So once you've filtered out the psuedo-dreams, you're left with the real ones, the ones inspired by passion. From there, it's easy. You keep plugging away, no matter what anyone says. But you have to be smart.

I am an amateur musician. I have played guitar for 17 or 18 years, and I'm very competent - I can play rythm with professionals with no problem. But music has always been a hobby for me, even though it is one of my greatest passions. That's because I made the decision years ago that my biggest passion is freedom, and a guy like me can only have one master. So I get what I can out of music, and I don't leave my dreams out in the open so they can be killed. They're alive and well, and maybe one day, they'll be realized. The point is that once you place your dreams in the right context in life, the question as to whether to kill or not kill largely disappears. And, contrary to my usual desire to meet conflict head-on, this is a problem I am happy to sidestep.