Dream Big. And Often.
Last night was my first time at Madison Square Garden. I'd like to say that I was there with a bunch of middle aged ladies throwing my panties at Billy Joel, but I was watching the Knicks battle it out for last place against the Charlotte Bobcats.
I was excited to see another New York monument, but let me just say that the tickets were free, one of the benefits of having a fast-talking Russian as your former boss and current friend. The night was a double bonus for me, as I not only got to see all 5'9" of the NBA Dunk-Contest-Winning Nate Robinson in person, but also got to watch high school buddy Alan Anderson lead his team in scoring and condemn the Knicks to a record 59 losses this season.
Before the game I was sure to sneak down to courtside and scream, "ALAN!" at the top of my lungs. The look of surprise and happiness on his face when he realized that the screaming fan was the girl he dunked on during a girls varsity basketball practice was priceless. Yeah, that's right. I got dunked on. Now, with the exception of blind rage, I'm not usually all that open with my emotions, but there was something about seeing Alan warming up at the Garden that got to me. I honestly choked up like I was the Father of the Bride.
PMS? Maybe. Like I told everyone else who has already heard this story, and now has to read it, I just really love to see people achieve their dreams. I have the same amount of joy in my heart for Delane Cleveland (now a TV reporter), Cindy Althoff (now a weathergirl), Matt Lehman (now a radio journalist), and Chaz Kangas (now a bad-ass MC) that I do for Alan.
I'd like to someday join the ranks of these dream-reaching, goal-achieving Islanders. The problem is not that I don't dream. I do. I really do. But I dream so often and so erratically that I've found myself flirting with nearly every possibility without making a real commitment.
At ten, I was set on being an author. I submitted my "manuscript", "Alex and Gertie: Cabin Cats," to two of my uncles, who dutifully read all 32 pages of a story about my grandparents' cats. The plot twist was that the cats could talk. BUT ONLY TO EACH OTHER. Other than that it was just a story about cats.
At 12, I was interested in modeling and acting. It didn't work out because I don't like when people look at me. That, and I was in a wicked awkward phase.
At 17, I was like, "Oh, I am like sooo totally going to be a lawyer."
At 20, I was going to...well, I was going to be in college for two more years and then figure it out. But to be safe, I took an internship at a law office. And filed paper.
At 22, I was clueless and stressed. I started writing again, but not with the intention of reviving the cat manuscript. I applied to jobs in New York, Philadelphia, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Phoenix, Minneapolis, Milwaukee, Cincinnati and Cleveland in any area of work that even remotely interested me.
Being a person who has spent 23 years living on a steady diet of day planners, the unknown was more than uncomfortable for me. Each day spent not knowing the next step I should take filled me with all sorts of anxiety. Most notably the kind where I deemed myself a failure and loser and contemplated sending my diploma back to Xavier University, to have them bestow it upon a more worthy person.
11 months and three jobs later, I've ended up living in New York and working in PR. I'm in a city I've always loved at a job that always seemed, for one reason or another, out of my reach. My job is demanding, rewarding, and stressful in all the ways that make me happy and satisfied.
I don't know why I was so worried in the first place. As my brilliant mother has pointed out umpteen times, everything works out in the end. I really should have taken her word for it, seeing as how she married my dad when he resembled George Harrison (in his mystical stage)
and somehow the two of them turned their young marriage into what can only be described as a Dynasty of Dipshits. All four of us have wandered and stumbled through life, and look at us, we're kick-ass! Not to brag, but we've got an Ivy-Leaguer, a hot momma, and a Sea-Bee to call our own.
Are my dreams fulfilled? I have no idea. But maybe that's the whole point. Maybe some people aren't meant for the steady climb or the linear plot. Maybe some people aren't meant to plan their work and work their plan. Maybe some people just have to keep it real and fall ass-backward into happiness.
Nora, I suggest revising your manuscript and retitling it Alex & Gertie: Two Mad Cats in the City. See, I think it works best to go back to what you thought you would be when you were ten.
Here's an excerpt from an autobiography I wrote when I was ten. Swear to God -I'm looking at it right now. "When I grow up I want to be a lawyer. I want to write children's stories when I retire. I want to have four children and lots of pets. I want my husband to be a lawyer too."
I'm glad you love your job. That's important. But don't give up your writing either.
Oh, and I guess that autobiography I wrote also said "I want to be rich and pretty and have a big house and a big office" But that sounded crappy so I left it out.
That's what I'm talking about, Jill! You achieved your dreams! Your mom said that when she was little she wanted to marry a man who would do her taxes. Looks like the Coyle women know how to get what they want!
This seems like a place to insert a quote from the Alchemist.
But I truly believe that your dreams are organic - like life. They are changing as your life's path changes. And it's a good thing. I think you should fill your life with as many moments and experiences of happiness and passion as you humanly can. That's my dream.
From the age of 5 when I told a child psychologist that I wanted to be either a "doctor or a lawyer, whoever makes more money" - I've gone to wanting to be a pediatrician, the next Barbara Walters, a lawyer, a business "person," etc. I've taken every graduate school test offered.
But then one day I realized that who I am is not defined by my career. It's defined by the life I've led, the people I’ve loved, the places I’ve been and the deep breath of relief that I take ever night before I go to bed and realize that it’s been another great day on this amazing planet.
Sometimes your dreams come true without you knowing that those were your dreams in the first place. I never wanted to have children when I was younger and now I realize that I couldn’t have dreamed higher or achieved more than putting Jake on this planet. I finally understood my purpose in this world. The joy that he brings to this earth is immeasurable and to think that I was partially responsible for that … my dreams have come true tenfold and then some.
Live life and dream big and enjoy every day. You won’t be disappointed.
Hi Nora,
I don't know that we have ever met in person, but I've been hearing your name for years! I actually walked down the aisle with your boyfriend at Eric and Minnehaha Mamas wedding...a looooong time ago(I'm Eric's sister).
I too lived in NYC post-college with my boyfriend and worked in Advertising, so I know where you are at. I only last 6 mo. there, but it was an experience I would not trade for the world. It's good to have dreams, but life is so ever-changing that I've often found the unexpected events in my life to be the most fun.
I must say I feel the same way. Some people claim that they don't want to know what the future holds. I would prefer to be transported beyond this ignorant present, and then feel the future in the instant. However, the best attitude I can muster toward the whole situation comes from Hannibal: Aut viam inveniam aut faciam.
I must say I had a similar feeling when I first saw Alan play for Charlotte; shed a tear. Made me think...I'll make it to the world of sports law, someday!
Anything is possible!
i don't really have any insights, but i really want you to post a picture of your dad in his "mystical george harrison" phase.
When you write your memoirs, in, say, a year, you can title it: "Ass-backwards into happiness." Nice.