Dreams. Are. Everywhere.
When I was at Harvard, I heard the phrase “I love TV shows about Bigfoot!” exactly never… except, of course, within my own peculiar inner monologue. Of course, we’d have been all over it if real proof of Bigfoot’s existence had come to light — a carcass, a skeleton, a notarized birth certificate, etc.
Nevertheless, I loves me some Bigfoot. Bigfoot sighting stories, Bigfoot hunters hooting into the woods night after night. I love the promos where the hunters shout, “Oh, my God! What is that?” even though the “that” in question usually turns out to be the Bigfoot hunters’ mother bringing sandwiches. At the climax of my favorite show, the ’squatch hunters view pictures from their fancy camera traps as the narrator darkly concludes: “One thing is clear: Elk. Are. Everywhere.”
So, though I like to daydream about a big hairy biped clomping through the world, I never expected to see one. Which is probably why I alertly noticed THIS. (The footage is shaky and jittery, like any decent Bigfoot video.)
Oh, I know what you’re thinking. “That’s not Bigfoot, you moron. It’s Chewbacca from Star Wars. And not even that. It’s just a guy in a Chewbacca costume.”
Perhaps you haven’t read Immanuel Kant, the philosopher who wrote that “the world as it is ‘in-itself’ is unknowable and reality must conform to the human mind’s active concepts to be conceivable.” In other words, everything passes through the filter of perception and reinforces our own particular perspective.
We don’t believe what we see, we see what we believe.
I’m sure you have a gloomy friend who manages to find bad luck in everything, including winning the lottery. And — almost equally maddening — a friend who’s unshakably chirpy about things like Ebola.
So, while you may choose to see my priceless footage as a guy in a Chewbacca costume, I choose to see it as — follow closely — Bigfoot disguised as a guy in a Chewbacca costume. Hiding in plain sight! Posing for pictures! The perfect ruse!
This is how grace always seems to work for me. I spend lots of attention on something for pure enjoyment, not really attaching to it, not needing it at all. Then, when I least expect it, in the least likely places, it just walked right up to me: My career as a “life coach” (a what?). My first gig on the Oprah show. My own business. True love. Safaris in Africa. A home in a place where Sasquatches may roam free, hooting and hiding and herding elk past camera traps.
I know that other people make their way by setting rational goals in reasonable industries, then networking, wheedling, and stressing their way up career various ladders. I’m incapable of that. All my interests are as useless as watching Bigfoot shows and reading Immanuel Kant. I do them anyway, because the only reason I can see for living is to experience joy, and these things bring me joy.
And so today my Sasquatch fascination, my favorite philosopher, and a nice lady with a hairy friend teamed up to make my Bigfoot dreams come true. I’m going to check “get Sasquatch video” off my bucket list and tell you one more time: If you imagine something extraordinary without taking it all that seriously, the thing you thought you’d never find may appear where you least expected it. The dream you’ve been chasing in vain may just clomp right up to you on great big hairy feet.
