When The Dream And Dreamer Are One

“Believe in that perfect moment when the dream and the dreamer are one.”

Or—wait? Maybe the exact quote was, “Believe in THE perfect moment when the dream and the dreamer are one.”

What’ev. I suppose precise wording doesn’t matter. That being said, the exact quote should be tattooed in my memory banks forever due to the fact I recited it to myself every night before I went to sleep as a kid.

The first time I read, “Believe in that perfect moment when the dream and the dreamer are one,” was in the mid 1980’s on an ice-skating poster. My aunt worked for a company called Ambassador Cards, a branch of the Hallmark brand focused primarily on greeting card paraphernalia for smaller markets like grocery stores. When items in a grocery store got damaged or discontinued, the merchandise was thrown out. Instead of throwing out the purple ice skater poster with a bent corner, my thoughtful aunt tucked it away to give to me.

It hung on the back of my bedroom door for years and years and years throughout childhood and adolescence.

Anyway, here I am—40 years later—writing about a damaged poster that got a second chance at life. Actually, it might’ve been the other way around. It might’ve been a damaged poster that gave me a different perspective of life.

Encouraging Wisdom For A Misguided Child

I was an incredibly shy and introverted kid, internalizing pretty much everything. This made me a safe target for the cruelest bullies in the schoolyard. The meanies could do whatever demeaning and humiliating things they wanted, and I’d just turn all the bullying targeted towards me into self-shame.

“I’m not as good as the other kids,” I’d think. “That’s why I get treated this way. Mom and dad would be so embarrassed if they knew their daughter wasn’t as good as the other kids. I can never tell them.”

To be clear, my parents would’ve fought for me had they known what I was going through. I was just a super scared little girl. My family loved me exactly as I was, and I didn’t want to do anything to threaten that love in any way.

This is why I was a safe target for bullies. I was too embarrassed and scared to get help from adults. Instead, I’d crawl into bed at the end of the day and hide myself under the covers. After a long cry, I’d peek over the blankets and stare at the wisdom on the backside of my bedroom door.

Backside Of The Bedroom Door—A Poetic Image

“Amen, backside of my bedroom door!” This is what I imagine myself shouting—hands up in the air—as I write this very sentence. “I see you. I feel you. A waste of space with wisdom to share? Baby, I’ve been you.”

Why Tell You About: When The Dream And The Dreamer Are One?

Those words just meant so much to me as a frightened child who thought she was lesser than her peers. They gave me permission to focus on hope instead of hurt. They also gave me permission to believe in a positive image of myself for the future instead of absorbing the narrative others were making up about me.

“Believe in that perfect moment when the dream and the dreamer are one.” I’ve tried Googling my childhood mantra to see if it has an origin of some sort. I mean—it sounds like something you’d see plastered all over merchandise typically associated with inspirational quotes, right? Stuff like journal covers, t-shirts and pencil pouches?

Google search results: zero.

Nowhere. Nothing. Nada.

“Believe in that perfect moment when the dream and the dreamer are one.” Why has no one lined up those words in that particular order on the internet yet?

In any case, that’s why the idea to write this post popped in my head. Maybe it was my destiny to carry that sentence safely from the mid 1980’s and deliver them to you in 2023.

Because: SIGNS

Randomly—the purple ice skater poster pops up to the top of my memory as I was driving home today. I smiled, then thought to myself, “I wonder if I should write a blog post about that poster? It meant so much to me as a kid.”

Moments later, when I walked through the front door, I heard my mom talking to someone on the phone. The person’s on speaker. As I kicked off my shoes and set my bag down, I realized my mom was talking to my aunt. She’s talking to the aunt who gave me the poster.

Chills. Goosebumps cover my body. My mom and aunt talk no more than once a month.

What were the chances?

Well—as I begin to pay a bit more attention to the world around me—I’m starting to realize chances and signs are pretty much the same thing.

Let’s just say the Universe, God or whatever Greatness is out there thought you needed to read about the wisdom on the backside of my childhood bedroom door today.

You’re welcome.