The Perilous Land of Dreams and Greatness

Tonight I had dinner with Nelson and began bemoaning the fact that most of the people in my new program do not speak the language of food and culture and philosophy that he and I share. I told him the way I had expected the people to be like us, to be able to speak intelligently and with authority on theories of cuisine and about the current happenings of the gastronomical world.
During this dialogue, it came out that some of the students have a more utilitarian approach to food studies; thinking about school lunch reform and localization projects. This in turn lead to a discussion about my purpose and goals for the program.

Some peculiar truths were teased out of this seemingly innocuous conversation. I began to speak about my passion for translating the human experience through the unique activity of eating, the amazingly rare phenomenon of a simultaneously utilitarian and indulgent act, matched only by sex in its universal application, and finally about the way that this dichotomy allows me to ground my sometimes overly philosophical or existential observations and musings in something tangible and real. I told him that I want to share my passions and ideas through my writing, but I have not figured out the best medium for it yet. Will I be best served with editorial or narrative writing or academic research? Will I be funded through grants or book advances?

We came to a point of concern. There is a fear, and perhaps rightly so, that academic writing; the scientification of these ideas, may in some way steal the soul of the concepts. This is an interesting problem, and one to keep in the back of my mind over the next few months.

While interesting on some level, many of the readings I have been working through have a clinical air about them. This is not a voice I want to mimic. I have decided to give this program and that path a fair shake. I am going to put 100% into my classes while attempting to stay true to my voice and my vision. As in love, we will either mesh or we won’t, and if we don’t then it is not to be considered a failure by either party, but simply a mismatch.

This will be a challenge for me. I am a fantastic adaptor, unceasingly adept at figuring out what is expected of me and delivering. That is fine, but I must learn to always keep an eye fixed on what I expect of myself and let that trump all. It is an interesting thing learning what your vision truly is, and something clarified by challenge and push-back. It seems that in an easy world without challenge, it become impossible to carve out a clear picture of what you truly believe or of what you truly aspire to.

These challenges are significant, but not catastrophic. The uncertainly is not actively terrifying, but it does take my breath away, like someone walking in the dark who stops just shy of an abyss.

I have gone down the winding, tortuous path in search of purpose before. I began with the query as to whether my motivation was merely a memorialization of my own personal experiences, and therefore myself, or a desire to share my experiences. I think that while I do want to memorialize, it is more than simple navel gazing I wish to capture. I want to write into immortality, bring into the homes of the unsuspecting a picture of a world they haven’t the ability to see for themselves. It is through this sharing that I hope to make the world a bigger place. I want to share the exotic flavors of the lands many will never travel to. I want to give a new perspective on life.

The greatest influences in my life have been the authors who penned into my heart worlds and lives I had not been able to imagine. They opened my world and my heart to possibilities I was never aware of before. When I am distraught, it is not the self-help section of the library I turn to, but the novels and biographies.

Giving someone the opportunity to see the world through another set of eyes, in a context that speaks to their soul, that is to me one of the greatest marvels of the human experience. I want to feed the imagination and the soul with a tantalizing feast. In the sharing of the feast, I will be enabled to fully satiate my own hunger. I cannot fully savor a meal if it is taken in solitude. I would go so far as to say that it is not truly a meal to me unless it is shared. In the same way, an experience does not become an adventure until it is shared.

I want to feast and explore, now I just have to figure out how. It is a blessing that I have had my blinders removed so early on, neither this program nor any other will ensure my goals will be met. The security blanket of credentials has become as useful a shield as a quilt to me, and it is good to know that I am not protected. I think the lack of security will give me the motivation needed to keep from losing my way, from falling into the pitfall of achieving simply to achieve. What I want cannot be taught like a vocation.

I must take it upon myself to prepare and keep my eyes open to possibilities and the markers along the way God will etch out for me. This is faith without a safety net. I see the drop and it leaves me breathless. Perhaps this is what God has been preparing me for, perhaps this time I am going to have to jump. I don’t know how and I don’t know when, but I know that I need to be prepared. God has lead me to the mountain peak, like Elijah to the alter, I pray that I have the courage and faith to make the plunge.

He knows I’m not ready yet, or maybe I am. He has shown me the chasm, I don’t know if I am breathless and brave or simply breathless from the shock of fear. I will pray for faith, it seems the only currency in the perilous land of dreams and greatness.