I am the Wizard of Oz
Hiding behind a curtain of my own design
Blogs flashing, words splashing
Mask of purpose firmly in place
All in an attempt to hide my insignificance
Sometimes in the midst of self-doubt, I feel like a charlatan. Just as the Wizard of Oz controlled his masterful devices from behind a veil that masked his small form, I dare to incite illusions of grandeur that crackle, pop, and smoke. Yet, all the while, I doubt whether what I do is real or even important, for that matter. Who are you kidding? wrestles around with hope in the arena of my brain, bouncing off the ropes of sanity.
During these seasons of insecurities, I act “as if” my activities mean something in the eternal scheme of things. This is the only thought that brings me solace.
After so many years of pretending, the charade became a part of who I am. Now, I can no longer separate my present self…writer, artist, educator, from my former identity …disqualified missionary, loser ministry wife, impoverished single mother.
I wonder if anyone else, who dared to believe they could make a difference, ever felt this way. I wonder…
Is pretending to do something life changing all that bad if someone somewhere becomes inspired to live his or her dreams all because I hoped I could?
The answer always returns to me the same, yes! And so… I continue the charade.
What is the message of the Wizard of Oz? The only power he possessed was helping Dorothy wake up from a dream she did not choose so she could find her way back home.
Perhaps there are those of us whose role is much the same. Through our efforts to rise above the mundane, we awaken others from what they assume real life to be. We know that even though they pretend to be happy, all the while they just want to get back home to that place were they feel free to be who they are truly meant to be.
Maybe the cost to us visionaries is that we remain in a suspended dream-like state between what we envision and what is reality.
The Wizard of Oz did not give anything to Dorothy that she did not already possess…except, of course, the belief that she could return to her true self…and in doing so…live the impossible dream.