Tomorrow is a Long Time
Identity Found in Hope
Why do we hope? What practical purpose does having hope serve? Is hope something that benefits us? Does hope have a net positive on our lives?
Bob Dylan seems to think so. “Tomorrow is a Long Time” gives us insight into ourselves and our motivations. It lays out the effect of hope and what it means.
Lyrics
In a literal interpretation, the song is about Bob Dylan traveling to be with the woman he loves. He outlines the pain felt in his journey to get back to his love, the time dilation experienced by not being with her. How everything could just be better if she was with him. He also talks about the lack of identity and direct purpose without her. How even in his best moments and experiences, he’d rather just be with her.
In my mind, the writer isn’t just talking about being with his love, but with any hope that he clings to when times get tough when the anticipation gets too hard to experience and he just has to sit in the pain of a hope yet to be realized.
If Then Statements
The song is broken up into two “if, then” statements. The first is a lament of the long twisted journey we have taken so far with hope in mind. The second of the statements describes the journey we are currently undergoing to get to our hope and what happens if we don’t get it. How it feels to work for an elusive something that can bring us peace.
Struggle in the journey, hope and goals seem more real in the struggle, than in the coasting.
If today was not a crooked highway
If tonight was not a crooked trail
If tomorrow wasn’t such a long time
Then lonesome would mean nothing to you at all
Yes and only if my own true love was waitin’
And if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin’
Yes, only if she was lyin’ by me
Then I’d lie in my bed once again”
I feel like I live in a “Hail Mary” Mentality. If I can coast then I lose my drive and energy to perform. I lose my vigor to obtain my goals.
If I’m up against a wall with no way out, hope is all I can think about. I make sure that everything I can do is being done to realize my hope. I leave nothing to chance and I work for it. But that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt.
I think that’s what the writer is saying here. “I’m on my journey, I’m doing the work, but it still hurts”. He knows the end is worth it, but he still resents the pain. If only this one goal was met he could rest… until the next goal.
“I can’t see my reflection in the waters
I can’t speak the sounds that show no pain
I can’t hear the echo of my footsteps
Or remember the sound of my own name
Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin’
And if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin’
Yes and only if she was lyin’ by me
Then I’d lie in my bed once again”
When people ask “Who are you” most of us respond with our occupation. It’s just routine, common courtesy. But it doesn’t answer the question. “Who are you?” is best answered by another question. “What could affect you the most if it was taken away.” If you suddenly had nothing, what would you work for hardest, to get back first?
The next verse of the song talks about just that. We, as humans, find our identity in hope. I am a Christian, My identity is placed in the hope of Jesus. If that was taken away, I would be going through a massive identity crisis. I would be alone, in loss of community with other believers. Bob Dylan is saying that without his hope or without what he values most, he has no identity. He is a lonely ghost, devoid of all that makes him, him.
“There’s beauty in the silver, singin’ river
There’s beauty in the sunrise in the sky
But none of these and nothing else can touch the beauty
That I remember in my true love’s eyes
Yes and only if my own true love was waitin’
I could hear her heart softly poundin’
Yes and only if she was lyin’ by me
Then I’d lie in my bed once again”
Finding joy on the journey doesn’t compare to the end goal. You can find joy almost anywhere if you look hard enough. There is always something that can be a net positive if you spin it the right way. During this pilgrimage that we are experiencing with the writer, there is plenty of joy and beauty to be had.
Beauty, that wouldn’t have been experienced if the journey hadn’t taken place. But objectively joyful and beautiful things don’t hold the same weight as something you put value in. Take stock of where you are in life, and be happy with the path you are on because there is something to learn in every situation. Don’t get so fixated on the results that you miss out on the process. In most cases, the process is more valuable anyway.
“I’d lie in my bed once again.” A man who has hope and aspirations can never be at peace. After that goal is attained, only then can we rest. I feel like in my life, peace can only be found in accomplishment. It’s hard to find peace if I am lacking in any area of my life. I can find times to meditate and relax but I can only find real peace after doing something hard.
For example, I ran a half marathon and then I felt like I had earned the right to binge Harry Potter. But if I had done the movie marathon without the running marathon preamble, then I would have felt lethargic and awful. Peace is earned through accomplishment.
Personal Story
In the second semester of my freshman year of college, I was on academic probation. My lack of focus was out of control and it was showing in my grades.
So for an entire semester, with my back to the wall, I had to work hard, and hope harder. I traveled an hour and a half to and from West Lafayette and Indianapolis for “focus training.” I woke up every day at 6:00 am and went for a run in the snow and then lifted weights. I met with professors, employing their human kindness to teach me one-on-one. I took lecture notes like a courtroom stenographer.
My “one true love” in those days was academic survival. The journey was long, painful, and lonely. I was acting in the hope that all this work wouldn’t go to waste. If it did, I truly would have lost some of my identity. I was supposed to be a Boilermaker. That was what I was putting value in.
But in all of this, I found joy and beauty. When I was training my body in the cold windy mornings, I felt like an Olympic athlete. I felt like a genius as I trained my brain into submission, corralling my distractions into creative outlets. I felt like a silver-tongued con man as I befriended professors for private tutoring and help with assignments.
But nothing made me as happy or as proud as walking across the stage at graduation to receive my diploma. To feel it in my hand and read it and know that it was real, to be assured that all my hard work meant something. I was finally able to take a deep breath, and lie in my bed once again.
