I was cruising around some blogs tonight and ran across a good post on Dixon Kinser’s site that he titled The Death Of Fantasy. I left this comment on his site and decided to post it here as a reminder to myself:

I’m 35 and I have a 19 mo old daughter. I played in a band right out of college and had rock star fantasies. So, I recognized some similarities in this post.

I agree that fantasies are the shadows of some deeper meaningful reality that we chase. CS Lewis turned me on to this in his book, The Great Divorce. If you haven’t read it, do. I think fantasies aren’t necessarily about bad things or come from wanting something we know we shouldn’t have, but I think they are lesser versions of what we really Desire in the best sense of the word.

Take being a rock star. It works for some people. There’s nothing wrong with wanting the experience of playing in front of thousands of people and knowing that you’re loved for your ability to move that massive group of people with what you’ve created. My friend used to be the bassist for the Christian group Grammatrain, and he said it was a rush to be jumping up and down on stage and seeing an entire stadium full of people do it with you. But I hear over and over that it gets old really quickly for most. The real Desire is self-expression and creation — to craft the jumble of life into a potent moment of experience for a listener, to reveal yourself and open the way for others to do the same, to feel that electric connection of God-spark in the act of creation. That Desire can lead you into true artistry in a way that being a rock star never could touch.

I think fantasies about sex and career and self-image and all the rest share that characteristic — the hunger for some kind of self-described perfection that we can live in eternally. I think Frederich Buechner describes it admirably when he defines lust as “the craving for salt of a man dying of thirst”. What we can miss is the much more deeply satisfying experience of now, here. And I think that’s where commitments come in. Marriage vows or surrendering to Christ or embracing the responsibility of parenthood or even committing to a pet are all experiences that open doors onto rich vistas and experiences of life that are completely inaccessible to those who refuse to be “tied down”.

In my one of my art classes in college while giving an assignment, the teacher said something to the effect of “having to work within the limits of this project is what stimulates and releases your creativity”. That has really stuck with me in my personal, professional and artistic life. I have this specific wife and child; I have these specific musicians to lead worship with; I have these specific web design clients and this specifc career experience. So, what I can create with these specifics I’ve been given? Answering that question is surprisingly stimulating and creatively energizing. There’s a lot of freedom and joyful energy available by letting go of the vagueness of fantasies and embracing the clarity of the specific, the now, the here.

For a great perspective on this topic, check out the entry in my blog that I copied from Best Life magazine on the joys of monogamy.