Damaged Dreams

Damaged Dreams

Reading Helps to Actualize Your Dreams

Under the timeless skies of an ancient city, where the past seemed to whisper through the wind-swept streets, and the legacy of generations was etched into the very stones, lived Iona, a craftswoman of unparalleled skill and quiet resolve. Her art, the delicate creation of glass figurines, was not merely a profession but a sacred calling, a bridge between the tangible and the ethereal, shaped by the heat of the furnace and the breath of life she breathed into each piece.

From her earliest memories, Iona was cradled in a world of shimmering glass, where light and colour danced in silent harmony. The legacy of her family’s craft was as much a part of her as her heartbeat. Her ancestors, renowned artisans whose creations were sought by the wealthiest and most discerning patrons, had passed down their knowledge and secrets through the generations, each adding their touch and vision to the lineage of their craft. Iona, the latest in this venerable line, had inherited not only their skill but their relentless pursuit of excellence, living by the creed that had been instilled in her since she could walk:

Quality is not an act, it is a habit.
— Aristotle (384-322 BC)

The workshop, a cavernous space filled with the tools of her trade, the ovens’ warmth, and the racks of cooling glass, was her sanctuary. Here, amid the quiet clinking of glass and the soft hissing of the torch, Iona found peace. Her creations, ranging from the simplest of baubles to the most intricate of sculptures, were more than mere objects; they were fragments of dreams captured in glass, each curve, each hue, each delicate twist infused with a whisper of the divine.

Yet, as the years passed, restlessness began to take root within Iona’s heart. When the moon hung heavy in the star-studded sky and the city around her sank into slumber, a different kind of work began. The dreams came then, as they always did — visions draped in the darkness of night, yet alight with an inner fire. In these dreams, she wandered through landscapes born of shadow and light, guided by the whispered verses of a voice long silenced by time, the ancient poetess Sappho, whose words seemed to reach across the centuries:

O dream on your black wings, you come when I am sleeping. Sweet is the god but still, I am in agony and far from my strength. for I had hope (none now) to share something of the blessed gods, nor was I so foolish as to scorn pleasant toys. Now may I have all these things.
— Sappho (630-570 BC) - Translated by Willis Barnstone

These nocturnal journeys left Iona torn between two worlds — the tangible reality of her glass and the elusive realm of her dreams, where the poignant longing and ethereal beauty of Sappho’s verses haunted her. The dreams felt like a call, a beckoning to venture beyond the confines of her known world, stirring a deep yearning within her for something more, something beyond the reach of her craft.

Despite this inner turmoil, Iona’s days continued in their usual rhythm, marked by her work's steady pulse. But the dreams refused to be ignored, weaving themselves into her thoughts, reflections, and essence. They reminded her of a truth she had long observed in the quieter moments of her life, echoed in the words of Mary Shelley:

My dreams were all my own; I accounted for them to nobody; they were my refuge when annoyed - my dearest pleasure when free.
— Mary Shelley (1797-1851)

In these words, Iona found a kindred spirit, a whisper of encouragement to embrace the private world that flourished within her. This world offered solace and strength, a sanctuary from the demands and expectations of her everyday existence.

The realization that her dreams might hold the key to a deeper understanding of herself and her art gradually dawned on Iona. It was a slow awakening, a hesitant acceptance of the possibility that her visions could be more than mere flights of fancy. The thought that she might, in some way, be destined for more than the life she had always known began to take root, challenging the boundaries of her world and the beliefs that had defined her.

It was Gabriel García Márquez, a voice from a different era, who provided the clarity she needed. His words, like a beacon in the fog of her uncertainty, illuminated the path before her:

It is not true that people stop pursuing dreams because they grow old, they grow old because they stop pursuing dreams.
— Gabriel García Márquez (1927-2014)

Iona felt the weight of these words deep within her soul, a profound truth resonating with the silent fears and unacknowledged hopes buried in her heart.

The catalyst for change was the recognition that her dreams were not just a refuge but a roadmap, a guide to a fuller, more prosperous existence. The fear that had held her back, the invisible chains of doubt and hesitation, began to loosen. She understood, with a clarity that pierced the veil of her previous indecision, that the pursuit of these dreams was not a betrayal of her past but an homage to it, a way to honour the legacy of her ancestors by expanding the horizons of her artistry.

Emboldened by this revelation, Iona began to prepare for a journey the likes of which she had never undertaken. It was a journey not just of distance but of the spirit, a quest to explore the depths of her own creativity, seek the sources of her dreams, and understand the messages they conveyed. The preparations were meticulous, each step weighed and considered, for she knew what lay ahead was fraught with uncertainty and the potential for failure.

But as she stood on the threshold of this new adventure, Iona felt a surge of courage, a steadfast resolve that was bolstered by the wisdom of another guide, Paulo Coelho, whose words seemed to speak directly to her soul:

Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dream.
— Paulo Coelho (1947-present)

With these words as her mantra, Iona stepped into the unknown, leaving behind the safety of her workshop, her city, and her former self. She embarked on a path that would lead her through unknown landscapes both without and within.

The journey was arduous, filled with challenges that tested her resolve, skills, and faith in the visions that had set her on this path. There were moments of doubt, loneliness, and near-despair when the weight of what she had left behind seemed too great, the distance from her destination too vast. But with each step forward, each obstacle overcome, Iona found new strength, new insights, and new beauty in the world around her and within herself.

She encountered fellow travellers, each on their quest, from whom she learned the value of companionship, the sharing of burdens, and the joy of unexpected friendships. She faced trials that forced her to draw upon reserves of creativity and resilience she had never known she possessed. And through it all, she held fast to the dream that had driven her from the comfort of her known world, which had, in its pursuit, led her to discover strengths and depths she had never imagined.

As the days turned to weeks and weeks to months, Iona’s journey transformed her in visible and invisible ways. Once confined to the delicate beauty of glass, her art expanded to embrace the myriad forms and textures of the world she encountered. Her figurines, once reflections of dreams she barely understood, became expressions of the rich tapestry of experiences, emotions, and revelations that marked her journey.

And in the end, when she returned to the city of her birth, it was not as the Iona who had left. She returned as a woman transformed, an artist reborn, carrying with her the knowledge that pursuing her dreams had not only changed her life but had infused her work with a new depth, meaning, and life.

Her creations, now imbued with the essence of her journey, became more than mere objects of beauty; they became symbols of the courage to dream, seek, and grow beyond the confines of what had once seemed unchangeable. They spoke of the journey, the challenges faced and overcome, the eternal dance between light and shadow, the known and the unknown.

In the end, Iona realized that her journey had been her greatest masterpiece, with all its trials and triumphs, a living testament to the power of dreams and the indomitable spirit of those who dare to pursue them. Her story became a beacon to others, a reminder that the path to fulfilling one’s dreams is fraught with challenges but rich with the possibility of transformation and renewal.

As she stood once more in her workshop, surrounded by her craft's familiar shapes and colours, embarked, which were marked, Iona knew that her adventure had not ended but had merely entered a new chapter. For in her heart, she carried the unquenchable flame of creativity, the relentless pursuit of beauty, and the enduring truth that the journey, with all its uncertainties and wonders, is itself the destination, the ultimate work of art, the greatest dream of all.

Here's the full version of Sappho’s poem:

Dream
O dream on your black wings
you come when I am sleeping.

Sweet is the god but still I am
in agony and far from my strength.

for I had hope (none now) to share
something of the blessed gods,

nor was I so foolish
as to scorn pleasant toys.

Now may I have
all these things.

— Sappho (630-570 BC) - Translated by Willis Barnstone

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