Dream, Movie, Memory

A Dream: I was applying for the job of leading a private school. I had been the Head of the school previously but was not currently. I wasn’t totally sure I wanted to do it, but applied because I thought it made sense to offer my skills once more to guide the school. There were a number of other candidates. The trustees called a meeting in a large auditorium with hundreds of people. Three men in suits spoke at some length and then announced they had chosen someone else to be the Head of the school. I was sitting in the back with a friend, she looked over at me to see if I was OK. I was shocked and unsure what to do.

I decided to quit my job then and there—to empty my desk and leave the school by the end of the week. I was angry and disappointed. While I was gathering my things, the new Head came by before a meeting to ask me some obvious questions about the budget. I was amazed he didn’t know what was plainly evident and was sure he was incompetent to run the school.

I was also relieved to be leaving. I spent the rest of the dream coming to terms with both the loss and the freedom that would now be possible once I left. There was one scene where Wonder Woman (in her street clothes) and two other women were comforting me and gently expressing their confidence in my abilities to find my own path and flourish on my own.

A Movie: We watched Wonder Woman 1984 last night. I wouldn’t call it a great movie, but it was good fun and (spoiler alert) ultimately sweet and positive though not everyone gets everything they want at the end. That, in fact, is the subject of the movie—our wants and desires and what happens when we get what we think we want. Turns out (surprise) that it’s not purely good for us to get what we want.

A Memory: When I was in high school, my father, who was the minister of the local Presbyterian church, was also the assistant coach of my wrestling team. I had been wrestling since 7^th grade and had gotten quite good by a combination of determination, innate capacity and hating to lose. Before each wrestling meet, my Dad would gather us together in the locker room to pray before we went out to wrestle. He always prayed that we might stay safe and that we would do our best.

Secretly, I always prayed to win. At that age, staying safe and doing my best seemed like getting sox for Christmas—nothing worth wishing for. Looking back, I see it differently. I think of the sweet gaggle of tough and vulnerable high school boys trying to prove themselves—and, in retrospect, I see that my father’s prayer was sincere and true. But at the moment, winning seemed like the only thing worth wanting.

One day (and here’s the point of the story that ties it in to the movie and maybe even the dream) I confessed to my father that my prayer was to win. I pressed my theological point by saying ‘You say that God always answers our prayers. How come I don’t always win?’ Without missing a beat, as I recall, he responded ‘Sometimes the answer is no.’ His response was surprisingly satisfying to me. I didn’t really like it, but it made sense.

So What?: We don’t always get what we want. And when we get what we want—the victory, the job, the relationship—it turns out to be different that we had imagined—more complicated, fluid and short-lived. This is one of the teachings of life-coaching I most appreciate—that fulfillment is not a destination but a process. Fulfillment is what happens when we act in alignment with what we love.

Success and failure, gain and loss, praise and blame are pairs of human experience that are neither good nor bad. In not being chosen to lead the school in my dreams, I was disappointed. But who were the three beautiful women offering me comfort and encouragement? The three Muses? Three parts of me with hidden powers, one of whom can fly through the air with her ‘lasso of truth’ tangling up bad guys and making sure children are saved from harm (even in the middle of a chase scene when she is fighting for her life).

Personal Practice: What if what you have is what you need? Can we choose this life—even with it’s impossible difficulties and disappointments? What if what you have is what you really want? I pose these questions not as theological positions, but rather as lines of inquiry and investigation.

Take a moment as you read this and look around. Take a breath. Listen to the sounds. See what is around you. It could be otherwise. It will be otherwise.