Immigrants: "We come to live the American Dream"...

In a recent gathering I heard the phrase "We come to live the American Dream". And it was said very resolutely, with deep conviction. The person addressing our group was dynamic, engaging, and definitely convincing; she was also an immigrant. And in the spirit of bridging differences, the phrase doles out a double whammy as it seems to express solidarity through "I'm am (also) looking for what you are looking for", and, "See, we agree; there is something in common between us. Don't shun me".

Something clicked inside which made me stop nodding in agreement. I realized I had been nodding in agreement and then, in auto mode, I started nodding in disagreement. "No, no!" wanted to come out from deep within me. (Of course, I did not let it: this was too fresh, I had no idea what it was all about, and it had not revealed itself to me yet. I did not know what was going on, for God's sake!).

There was a sense of discovery to be had, and a sense of disagreement which at the time could not be defended, upon which the decision "was made" (by the head, that is), that this would be processed outside of the environment in which it was born. And so I did.

And then it hit me! I did not come to Georgia, to Atlanta, to live "the American Dream". No, I did not!

I came to live the idea of my dreams within the environment of the newly discovered geography. I had just stripped away the 'old' and known environment, and left it behind. (Had I run away from it?...hhhmmm. Topic for more processing!) But I did not come to live the "American" dream. I did not come to "live your dream, somebody else's dream". Not really, and no insult or deprecation intended. I had come to leave behind the environment that was not facilitating "my dream", and came to a landscape that I presumed would facilitate "my dream (as deep and hidden as that can be)", and also to incorporate parts and pieces that I knew were available,  to "adorn" my dream.

In that dream there was a huge component of things unknown, and also some somewhat known, these last termed "possibilities". There was also the absence of many components of the previous landscape, which were irritants, blockages, and unfruitful elements - barren, and/or incapable (at least so I thought then) of providing or bringing forth or yielding an outcome that was satisfying, and/or sought for. This drive to the dream, and the conviction away from the un - auspicious setting, vectors which joined together into an interesting relationship of "pull and push", got me into that Delta plane. The plane from which, as it climbed into the blue skies above, I looked at the island and had the deep, sunken realization that this was not a routine vacation sightseeing trip as many before. With my seven year old daughter, Jocelyn, at my side and, holding her hand tightly, I realized that a decision had been made that would drastically change my life and the family's life course, as well: the island floated away in my eyesight, getting smaller and smaller, and the thought settled in, that the tipping point of the search was underway.

At that moment, there is no "Dream". The soul has no idea of what is going on!, much less, "the American Dream". Parts and pieces - maybe. "Disneyland" stuff - fantasies - maybe. It was a deep, huge, space: pregnant with nothingness. Liminal space. Silent. Much like  the feeling of suspense in a movie, in a theater...which the flight provided as the climb brought in the sense of heavyness, engines roaring, and the usual bumpiness before breaking thru the clouds into a calmer space. A space from which the island was not any longer visible. And that's when the tears rolled in.

The "dream" was no longer  "out there": it was too close. It was right there and then. It was to be constructed in every intention, in every action. It would consist of learning and discovering the elements of the new landscape, and incorporating its parts and pieces into one's incipient goals, wrestling the temptations of repeating past choices and mistakes, and instead, making new ones within the facilitating and present 'new' circumstances that would bring with them potential and possibilities. There, it was clear, the 'old dreams' would come up, and maybe, 'out'. But, a new life sense had set in. The decision was then, in facing each possibility - old or new - "are you fit to be borne?", or "are you to be left behind, and a new set of possibilites opened instead". Life was there: at the fork in the road. That, there, was "the dream".  That - was the sense of freedom, the awesome and heavy responsibility of 'liberty'.