When Joseph shared his dreams with his brothers, why were they jealous? It was only a dream, right? Couldn’t they have just decided to go to sleep that night and have theirs as well? Couldn’t they have just decided that night they were going to dream and in the dream, their own sheaf would rise upright while his and others bow to it? Why did they even interpret his dream and ask “do you intend to rule over us?” he never said so, all he did was share a dream. But it seemed they understood what his dreams meant better than he could. And their anger wasn’t in the meaning of the dream, but in their inability to have his dream.
And so it seems, we can’t pay for the big dreams. Ambition is a gift.
While growing up, to keep my siblings and I busy, my mother made us write essays. One evening, she asked us to write what we want to be when we were older. After writing, we had to stand before her and read it out. I went first, and read out my ambition for my future. I can’t remember what it was I wrote that I wanted to be, but I remember my sister’s. She is two years younger. I think then I was 9 and she was 7. I can’t really remember. But I remember every details of what she wrote. I still remember how she stood on a chair before everyone and read from her book. She said she wanted to be a doctor, so that she could help people. She said she wanted to build a large hospital that will not only treat people but provide employment for poor families. I sat there listening to her. And I wondered, why didn’t I think of this? I was older than her. I always thought I was smarter than her. Clearly, I was stronger than her. But, yet, I didn’t have a dream as immaculate as hers.
The peculiarity of her essay that night wasn’t in the uniqueness of the ambition which she shared. Of course, being a doctor was almost every child’s ambition. The peculiarity was in her reason for being a doctor and how she beautifully articulated and expressed them in writing. She had clear reasons and genuine motivations; such reasons and motivations is rare for a child at such age.
At that age, she understood altruism. And that was an ambition I didn’t have. I may not remember the details of my essay, but I am sure most part of it was centered around the prestige and the prominence of the profession and how much money and comfort it will bring me. I felt ashamed after she was done reading. I was ashamed because even if I had said I wanted to be a doctor, I would have wanted to be a doctor for reasons not as pure and divine as hers.
Few years later, while writing my common entrance exams, one of the questions was What do you want to be when you grow up? I remembered my sister’s essay and its beautiful content. I plagiarized it.
I have learnt, even as I get older, that while some have the gift to dream and see the world differently, others do not. They just can’t see it differently. And for those who see differently, they share their dreams enthusiastically, thinking everyone sees it, too.
I once thought that the environment influences how big someone could dream, but my sister and I grew up in the same street, attended same school and ate from the same plate. How could she have dreamt differently? How could I have not had same dream and motivations as hers?
Joseph and his brothers were all shepherds. Even in the prison, he still dreamt differently.
Dreams cannot be bought. You can’t work hard to win a dream or wish upon it; it is given as a gift.
I sometimes envy people who talk about their plans for the future enthusiastically. The glint in their eyes when they share their beautiful plans. They know what kind of work they want to do, where they want to raise a family, what kind of life they want to live, how much they want to earn, where they plan to be at a certain time and how much influence they want to command. I listen to them in awe as I do not have any of these. I do not know where I want to be or where I want to live. I do not know the kind of work I want to do. I don’t know what I want to become. Unlike them, I do not have a carefully drafted plan for my future.
This isn’t a confession. It is an acceptance of my lack and maybe a plea to be gifted, too.
Now, I’m no longer in front of my little sister listening to her essay. I’m in front of friends and colleagues listening to them talk about their plans for their lives. I hear them discuss about their different preoccupations passionately and listen to them go on and on about a carefully planned trajectory; what happens next after this happens and what happens next after that happens. I admire the range of their thoughts and the vastness of their ambitions. I admire it, because I do not have it. I do not see myself one day winning the Nobel Prize or even a Pulitzer or even a Booker Prize. One day I might stumble into it as I have sometimes find myself do. Sometimes I want what others want, sometimes I’m pulled towards a beaten path.
Like me, perhaps you also do not have original dreams. You dream the dreams of others and covet their passions. You imagine ambition as glory and honor and riches; and so you want this too, not knowing what it means. You climb ladders with others thinking that when you get to the top you will be happy. You have reached the top of many ladders that were not yours to climb and you only felt emptiness. A disappointment because you assumed a satisfaction from someone else’s ambition.
This is a sad way to live life: dreaming other people’s dream.
Why am I writing all these? I want you to question your desires. Inspect the motives behind your aspirations. Do you really want what you want? Or are you pursuing it for optics? Do you want to travel out of the country because it is a step towards what you have always wanted to become. Or you are hustling your way out of an imminent doom which you think Nigeria is? Is there a greater motivation other than self?
I can’t judge your motives. I won’t judge your motives. But could there be any chance that these questions will help lead you back to your own dreams? I mean those dreams you always had but you threw away after you compared it to others and thought it wasn’t big enough. I mean those ones you innocently shared with people but they didn’t take you serious or didn’t understand because it wasn’t mainstream. Or maybe, they made you feel like you could dream bigger. Yes dream bigger, but make sure the dream is yours. To dream big doesn’t mean to dream differently.
Make sure you are proud of the ladder you are climbing, make sure you are proud of the future you are building, make sure you will be proud when your dream becomes a reality.
When you finally get to the top of that dream you’re climbing would you beam with joy and scream At last!? Or with a sigh ask what now?
My NaijaPoet! Thank you for this! I enjoyed reading my thoughts in your words.💜
Great Lessons!