Burnt Toast Is Better Than Nothing and Other Lies That Stole My Life
It's time to dream again.
I learned early never to ask for much.
My frugal parents came to the U.S. with nothing as twenty-somethings who’d grown up impoverished during World War II. I understood there was little to complain about using my parent’s upbringing as a baseline.
Wearing discount clothing that didn't fit was normal. Cleaning my plate, even if I was already satiated, was normal. Using everything until it turned to dust was normal. Reusing and recycling was the norm in our house before it became trendy.
My parents lived in a new country where their standard of living improved exponentially, and they were grateful for everything. They'd achieved their dream, even though I'm not sure they'd have classified it as such. Uprooting themselves was simply practical. They’d broken free from a land where there were no jobs, no futures for them.
They were no-frills people and believed having enough was enough.
Dreaming was never encouraged, but being satisfied was.
Burnt toast is better than no toast.
As their daughter, I still dreamt, but the dream was suitably modest. I went to college, although it was more an expectation than a dream. I found a career that was not my life’s passion but a necessary evil. Finding a partner and raising a family together had always been a romantic aspiration of mine, but also my only dream.
I lived that dream for a while: I married, worked, and cared for my family. Afterward, my dream life stopped, and instead, despair and unhappiness took root. My marriage and finances had gone south, and I felt trapped for a long time.
Why couldn't I just be satisfied? Some people had it worse than me. So, I kept going until it became too painful to stay. (Links to my story of leaving and starting over are at the bottom of today’s newsletter.)
Many things occurred before I was ready to dream again.
Since then, I have found a new Prince Charming, my husband, to thank for the nurturance of the new me, who is safe to dream. Dreaming Me asks questions about old stories and what is possible.
OLD STORY:
I'm not an athlete.
I can't sing.
I'm not a writer.
I shouldn't ask for anything.
I'm not worthy of a loving partner.
NEW DREAM:
I train, get stronger, and discover new ways my body can move.
I can learn anything I set my mind to, and now I'm learning to master my voice.
I've blogged online for four years, and my writing improves daily.
Asking sometimes feels outlandish, even scary, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't do it. Imagine the joy of hearing a yes!
I am worthy of love and have found a partner who cherishes and supports me.
Dreaming Me dares to dream. Dreaming Me is open to a different ending to my story. Dreaming me asks, what’s next?
At 61 years old, I won’t stop dreaming.
As a dreamer, I know dreaming isn't because I'm not grateful for what I have.
No, dreaming is the essence of our humanity, the foundation of all hope, and a prerequisite for a positive outlook.
In other words...when I didn't dream, my life sucked!
Not having dreams limits your capacity for growth and change. There is no such thing as the status quo-you’re always moving forward or backward. Even treading water involves movement and change. You’ve got to work to stay stuck.
Ask yourself questions about your stories, follow your yearning, and embrace your dreams, grand or small, at any age – and the path opens with possibility. Life can be exciting.
“Practice any art, no matter how well or how badly. Not to get money or fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what’s inside you, to make your soul grow. “
Kurt Vonnegut
What is your craziest, most far-out dream? What dreams were stymied by your upbringing?
What dreams have you been putting off?
SPEAKING OF DREAMS: Check out
’s fabulous Substack called “Reclaiming Dreams” for some direction and encouragement.Here are the posts I discussed above, in order. These posts are two years old and were inspired when I was writing a more yoga-focused newsletter. These were difficult to write, and I hope you benefit from reading them.
How I Ignored My Intuition, Lost My Power, and Became a Religious Zealot
Happy Tuesday and Happy 4th of July!
When the Universe Pays a Visit, You’d Better Pay Attention
There have been a bunch of new subscribers this past week, so hey there👋🏼 and welcome. My writing looks at the world through the yogic lens. I hope you love yoga too, or maybe you just want to know more about it.
How I Broke Free and Entered an Odyssey of Unbecoming
This is part 3 of 3 and the final installment of this series. To catch up, you can start here and here.
Ilona,
This is one of your best letters, IMHO. The construction is excellent. The message is powerful.
I don't have an interest in yoga, but I get how it can be a beautiful thing for mind and body.
I could relate to a couple things you said. I never had to eat burnt toast. But my WWII vet parents had us sit at the dinner table each night. Same time every day. We didn't leave until everything was consumed (no problem for me!). By today's standards, that sounds hokey and maybe harsh.
But I really enjoyed listening to Dad's work stories about fellow workers. A favorite guy was from India and how the cultures contrasted was the source of humor and provoking thoughts. Mom would relate the latest chapter in the book she was reading. We had an "audio book" while we ate our veggies! They never talked about the war. Dad was part of the liberation of Italy. They met in the hospital - he the wounded lieutenant, she the nurse (captain:). In those days, the vets didn't share much when they got home.
The best part? Mom and Dad listened to my sister and I. We ranted our naive opinions and they showed us respect. This was more than a dinner. It was a family meeting. Every night.
And I can relate on the personal relationship level. I married way too young. We grew apart. I had a series of partners after that. The last being a wife who was terrified of true intimacy (like talking) and I later discovered, didn't value loyalty.
It wasn't until I was 50 that I realized that there was someone who was a friend who might become more than that. I WAS wildly attracted to her physically. But the more we talked, the more I realized I loved her brain and her heart. We joined forces, opened a couple of successful small businesses. Her huge family embraced me despite my very "checkered past". Statistically I was a very high risk. But they just hugged me.
Lucky, I am. For many reasons.
Also, upon reflection, if I burn the toast, I cut away the worst part and slather the rest with butter. Maybe being raised by parents who grew up in the Depression had subtle influences. We both hate waste. Leftovers are never tossed.
You are always moving - there is no status-quo. Even treading water involves moving. I loved that!!! Exactly right. And have you heard there is no CHANGE without CHALLENGE? (Remove LLE!) so Dream! My forever dream was that I’d be on Broadway. I love to sing, love musicals. Didn’t happen, but for the last few years I’ve been taking dance/jazz/ballet classes and when I dance, I see myself as if I was a Broadway dancer. I’ve learned a lot and it makes me laugh every week. It brings me joy!