Letting Go When It’s Time to Dream a New Dream

“We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the life that is waiting for us.” ~Joseph Campbell

Growing up in a family of medical professionals, I received an abundance of opportunities with the understanding that my “job” was school. There was immense pressure to bring home straight A’s. I internalized this pressure and spent hours in my room memorizing texts and studying for classes.

In my mind medicine was the only acceptable career for me. Family, friends, and teachers routinely asked if I wanted to go to medical school, and my grandmother would smile when she saw me studying and say, “Study hard and you’ll be a doctor, just like your father.”

I felt that everyone was expecting big things from me, and I wasn’t sure what those things were, how to make them happen, or if I even wanted them.

In the fall of 2007, I was beginning my undergraduate career as a biopsychology and pre-med major at the local university when I became sick with a progressive neurodegenerative disease. I put life on hold as I bounced from doctor to doctor and underwent test after test, which produced few answers.

In a period of three years, I lost my balance, my mobility, my hearing, and much of my independence.

The grieving process that accompanied these losses was intense and surreal. I was convinced that finally having a diagnosis would make it easier, but I discovered that labeling an experience does not change its reality.

Medical science had nothing to offer me, in terms of treatment or a cure for my form of mitochondrial disease, but I found myself moving through grief with a false sense of fluidity and a feigned sense of humor.

I thought that if I pretended things were okay, I would not have to face the seriousness of my illness or the underlying grief.

I went to great lengths to keep up a facade—refusing help from friends, denying that I had any limitations, and locking myself in the house on days when my level of functionality was less than normal. Unfortunately, this meant spending a lot of time at home—alone.

Then a friend introduced me to Buddhism and began encouraging me to try meditation. She specifically suggested that I practice sitting with the uncertainty and the constant wave of negative emotions I was experiencing.

When faced with overwhelming challenges, it can be tempting to melt into a puddle of despair and drama. Sitting with the negative emotion can help us to see our challenges from a fresh perspective.

Despite living the life of “professional patient,” I became determined not to let my future and dream of medical school slip away, and I even managed to finish my Bachelor’s degree from home or the hospital one class at a time.

Just when I thought I could take time to breathe and settle into my new status quo, a close friend who had fought a brief battle with chronic illness passed away quite suddenly. Her death dismantled my unwavering faith in medicine and unearthed my own fear of mortality.

My health began to decline quickly, and it seemed that no amount of meditation or “sitting” could help me to make sense of the fear in my heart.

The months following her death are a blur, but I know that the tragedy was the catalyst to a powerful transformation in how I viewed my own illness and expectations for my future.

My facade and fear of staying sick, of never realizing my dream, and of my own mortality began to slowly morph into power. I believe that sometimes this “power” comes disguised as anger at first, but that the way we choose to channel this anger is what makes the biggest difference in the outcome.  

The Buddha said, “Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one getting burned.”

Desperate to drop the coal, I took action. I began to spend time tweaking my diet, consulting with functional medicine practitioners, and pouring over research articles online. Slowly—very, very slowly— things stopped spiraling and even slightly improved as I began to implement my own healing plan.

My doctors began commenting that I belonged in medical school, and I was starting to feel like I was finally on my way there.

I set my sights on “curing” myself with the expectation that I would be 100% well in a matter of time, even though I had been ill for years. Just as I had done as a child, I began to internalize this expectation of living the “perfect life”—disease free—and I had little time to enjoy the progress I had made.

But I was still stuck and I realized that my obsessive focus on a cure was yet another way of avoiding dealing with my illness and the accompanying grieving process.

I had been skipping over the last stage of grief—acceptance. I saw my disease as an inconvenience, a marred and imperfect part of me that I had to demolish.

I had spent so much of my life trying to meet the expectations I’d placed on myself, so I decided to start dedicating my meditation to exploring whether or not these expectations were truly mine.

I concluded that if I could claim ownership of the expectations, then I could take control of them and morph them into fruition; but instead I discovered that releasing them was like setting down a monstrous boulder.

I shifted my attention to what I knew I really wanted to do—carve out my own path as an entrepreneur and teacher.

I also began to sit with the idea that my health is not likely to improve, and while my disease does not have to define me, it is a part of who I am, and I can make the choice to do something positive with my experience.

The most important thing I have learned on this journey is that the grieving process is fluid, and there are no rules as to how we should grieve or what we can grieve about.

My lifelong dream of attending medical school was an expectation that I could not claim as my own. In fact, my experience navigating through the medical system with my own illness had left me with a great deal of disdain for the practice of medicine.

It felt awkward to experience so much upset over the release of an expectation that I could not own, but it had become such an engrained part of me I had eventually convinced myself I wanted it!

We typically associate grief with tangible loss of things we currently have—the death of a friend, failing health, a marriage, or relationship—but letting go of dreams can be just as painful and devastating.

If you need to let go of a dream as well, take the time to explore the driving force behind it’s dissolution and ask yourself if the dream was truly yours or if it was an expectation.

Better things wait for us on the horizon when we finally let go.  

Photo by naixn

About Erica Rachel

Erica recently combined her professional and personal experiences with her passion and launched her own business working with families of children with special needs. She maintains a blog where she explores the challenges and frustrations of living as a professional patient in a unique, humorous way.

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  • It’s exactly what I told someone I felt like knowing that I had to let go of a dream I really wanted to make a reality, but didn’t. It was like I was grieving. Thank you

  • andrea

    Loss of dreams, plans, aspirations through illness, accident, etc. is truly a coming to terms with a loss of self. You’re certainly not alone in your sentiments.

  • This was a very powerful article to me, my sister suffers from the same disorders. It has been very hard to understand her processes and pain as the medical professions have struggled with diagnosing her debilitating sickness. I feel that your path of natural “medication” can be of great help to her as well. Thank you so much for your enlightenment.

  • Astha Kaushik

    “and while my disease does not have to define me, it is a part of who I am, and I can make the choice to do something positive with my experience.” – very powerful lines. I appreciate your courage and acceptance power..its something majority of us don’t have. I feel it is a beautiful insight to deal with everything in a positive way. I remember a quote listed on Tiny Buddha, if you can’t change the situation, change the way you think about it. And it actually works, the moment you change your thinking, you have the solution right in front of you.

  • kavin paker

    You have an entertaining way of writing and yes I love the why, I usually ask ” What are you hear to teach me

  • Jen Ramos

    This story hits close to home. I had the dream of becoming a Doctor from all my life. As long as I can remember. My father had been sick and I was exposed to hospitals/clinics from five years old. I was fascinated with it and I told everyone with certainty that I would go to medical school. It was my dream. But from my adolescence I was very creative and was into fashion and I had awesome writing skills.

    Getting into A levels, I wondered was Med for me. I thought about other things. I liked research and never had trouble with written, language based assignments, gathering trends and just writing in general.

    And applying for university programs, I applied for psychology, literature in addition to med and biology. But that year I failed the grades to get into any. My pa had died as the school year started.. and I wasn’t very motivated. I broke into a million little pieces and ended up going back to repeat and get my A level Associate degree.. my full certificate so I can 1)keep the window for Med open 2) to be able to apply for the top university.

    I finished the third year and my grand mother died from breast cancer. I didn’t care after that. I had started novels and didn’t finish them. And seeing the medical system in action put me off.. i no longer wanted to be around sick or dying people. I realized that to a certain extent, medicine was not the wildly interactive career i wanted.

    I fell into depression, persistently not feeling anything until I was so bored and tired of being held down, and repressed from natural desires and coped up in my house, I did some thing I always wanted to do – I went to a fan con. My cousins were going, and I made my girl cousin her costume, awfully but i finished it. And from there I started to go out and do creative things. I started my own fb business making hair accessories. i learned how to let go o off useless thoughts and my depression receded. I did some more and managed a event cafe and pageant and I met someone. I felt happy, something i hadn’t felt in years. I thought that happiness wasn’t for adults. I got the courage to get a job because you off course need money to live.

    I worked a job in a pharmacy/store and I didn’t fare well. There was no days off and I just couldn’t stand working in a place that lonely. The stress got to me and i mentally snapped but it plunged me into depression and ripped up whatever progress I made. It left me with the raw desire from three years ago. But at the same time, i know I don’t want that old dream back. I want to let go completely and move on… progress. What I;m going through now feels like grieving. I cry a lot and it feels like someone died.

    It’s good to know though that others have been through this.

  • Mara royce

    This article spoke to me as I too have had chronic pain for years. Although, I have actively persued medical and holistic answers, I’m still stuck at this level of pain. The hardest thing for me is letting go of my guilt that I am no longer the mother I use to be, no longer the friend or lover I once was. I am grief-stricken by my situation but articles like this help me identify what I couldn’t articulate. It’s important to grieve the life you once thought was possible and accept the truth of your situation. This way you cannot ask so much from your ability, and disappoint yourself, which really is the hardest thing to come to terms with.

  • kaylee

    I’ve been wanting to be a singer-songwriter for all my life. However, being with strict parents who want or expect a lot from me (since I’m their first child) makes my wings snapped into two. They think that being what I want to do is absolutely worthless and as I’m going to turn twenty this winter, they (I honestly don’t know) seem to take an adventage of my age as “old” and not an experienced one since others begin singing like 15 years old while I haven’t even “boasted” that I wanted to sing and have a voice. Well, I’ll be honest. I am still scared of being in the spotlight, stage and fans or media digging even the dirtiest bit of me making that as a big issue that make me wanna not to come out of the house ever again (because I do have a dark history). Also, I wasn’t that prepared enough to be “boasting” my voice because I started have a decent voice as I turned 17. You might think these are just some old hilarious excuses but I am being absolutely frank. I still am willing to apply to agaencies but should I really give up and search for better substitute? I honestly do feel so restless by posting this but I do need your help. Of course I have tried talking to my parents but they are so careless about me because my younger sister is 6 years old. She really is handy. Moreover my dad is very violent through words and action, one wrong thing said, I would be beaten by my dad. Mom, she is planning to divorce with my dad and by that being said, my mom has got a new boyfriend who is very abusive to us (me and my younger sister). I think I’m basically on my own. So if you’re a bit thoughtful, please share your thoughts at least. Thank you.