Wishing Revisited: Same Message, Different Voice


Wishing Revisited: Same Message, Different Voice

by Cathleen Elise Rossiter

Pelléas and Mélisande by the well - Painting by Edmund Blair Leighton
Pelléas and Mélisande by the well – Edmund Blair Leighton

Ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board. For some they come in with the tide. For others they sail forever on the same horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his eyes away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time. That is the life of men. Now, women forget all those things they don’t want to remember, and remember everything they don’t want to forget. The dream is the truth. Then they act and do things accordingly.” 
― 
Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

My last post dealt with the concept of wishing; how easily it can take over our lives if we let it, stopping us from actually doing what is necessary to make our wishes reality, as I had been doing with my garden – wishing it were neat and trim while watching it grow out of control.

The story I relayed about The Girl Who was Quite Fond of Wishing is the story of me in grammar school. The revelation that I was wishing my life away came upon me suddenly, in a moment when I heard myself whining that I couldn’t skate like the other girls in class. I finally saw that the other girls in class just went out and tried to do what the instructor showed us. They did not spend their time afraid that they would fail, or fall, or hurt themselves. The other girls in class tried, failed, fell, hurt themselves, and eventually succeeded – attaining their dreams, fulfilling their wishes of becoming figure skaters while I stood back and watched my wishes stagnate. In that moment when reality confronted me, I let go of my fears, tried, failed, fell, hurt myself, and worked hard to fulfill my wish to become a figure skater.

There is always a danger in unchecked wishing. Tragic love stories the world over – those ancient and contemporary, those of legend and those of people we know – are riddled with examples of one or more parties in the relationship wishing they had someone else’s special someone. Tristan and Isolde, Pelléas and Mélisande, Anna Karenina, F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, Debbie Reynolds and Eddie Fisher, Brad Pitt and Jennifer Anniston, Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner are a micro-sampling of the fictional and real-life instances of the devastation of unchecked wishing. Rather than focusing on living the life he or she was meant to have, he or she focuses on the wish of a life that the other person’s life and possessions represent, thinking that one must possess exactly what someone else has in order for the wish to be fulfilled.

It’s easy to get lost in the wish, to forget or never realize that the wish represents a potential reality that we can make real, on terms and conditions that are best for us. Trying to replicate someone else’s dream and expecting it to make us happy or fulfill us in any sense is like Cinderella’s step-sisters trying to cram their feet into the glass slipper that was custom-made to fit Cinderella. The slipper will shatter, leaving the false wearer in pain and confusion. We get lost in the passive part of wishing, forgetting – or perhaps never knowing – that there is an active part of wishing, the part that we must do to attain the reality. In the process of getting lost in the wish, we begin to confuse the model, the representation of our ideal, our Long-Hoped-For with the True One meant only for us.

Wishing can become a way of giving up too soon, of turning away too soon because we do not see our ship of dreams landing on shore. Like the miner who tires of swinging his pick-axe, walking away dragging his axe in dejection, when he is only two axe swings away from his mother lode, we also tire, often turning to wishing at the moment we stop swinging our pick axes, often only steps from our goal.

Wishing is a good thing. It helps us to see what’s possible which leads to a plan of action. Today I vow to keep swinging my pick-axe until I reach my mother lode, to not turn away in resignation but to “act and do things accordingly”.

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