Dream Small: The Joy of an Unaccomplished Life

We were probably watching cartoons, or sitting in a Kindergarten class, the first time we were urged to live a life defined by accomplishments. It begins early, this cultural indoctrination.

We're told to live life in such a way that each chapter in our biography is something to boast about:
“Jake's Football Team Wins State”
“Cindy Graduates with Honors”
“Matt Lands a Job with a Fortune 500 Company”
“Jessica Promoted to Management."

Whatever path you follow, you are told to dream big, to be all that you can be, to earn trophies that serve as icons of a life worth living. None of these accomplishments come easy, or without sacrifices.

When I was working toward my Ph.D., I spent four days a week apart from my family. And when I was home, I was present in body but absent in mind. I was always thinking about the next paper I had to write, the next book I had to read. If you’re climbing rungs up the corporate ladder, saying no to upper management is not an option, even if that means you miss your daughter’s dance recital or your son’s playoff game to attend yet another meeting or close yet another deal.

To fulfill that dream of hearing your song on the radio, or playing for a professional team, or becoming a tenured professor, plan on losing lots of sleep, lots of family time, lots of little moments along the way that all add up to a substantial part of your life.

In the end, you’ll have your degree, your career, your celebrity status, or your six figure income. Your big dreams will come true. You will be an accomplished person, so it’ll all be worth it.

Or will it?

The answer to that question depends on what you want to define your life. There was a time when I would have said, “Yes, by all means, the sacrifices are all worth it.” But that was a time when I was blind to how much I was missing.

@@If I could rewind my life, I would dream small and relish the joys of an unaccomplished life.@@

“Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life,” St. Paul urges (1 Thess. 4:11). This is arguably one of the most un-American verses in all the New Testament. Those words have become almost a mantra for me. I must say them over and over to silence the lifelong indoctrination I have received from a culture that worships those who do big things and urges us all to do the same.

“Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life.” These words are, I believe, a call for a radical reorientation of our lives away from dreaming big to dreaming small.

To lead a quiet life doesn’t mean that you lower your expectations. It means you lower your gaze. Instead of looking up to the next accomplishment, the next rung on the ladder, you look down at the daily life you live, the children God has given you, the spouse by your side, your aging parents, your dear friends, the poor and needy—all those “little things” you miss when you’re always looking up to the “next big thing” in your life.

I turned forty six years old this week. The first half of my adult life was spent dreaming big, acquiring trophies that now gather dust. They serve as nothing more than emblems of lost loves and lost years. I can’t get those years back. I can’t undo the damage my ambition caused. But I can make it my ambition to lead a quiet life from now on.

I will seek joy, and find it, in those little moments that add up to a lifetime. I hope and pray you do the same.