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Jesse Brune-Horan

My Vision Board Was A Failure

December 30, 2017

By anyone’s standards my vision board was a dismal failure.  The care I’d put into it was sublime.  Noble.  Awe - inspiring.  I would say even majestic.  Eventually though, it turned on me, hanging on the wall, mocking me, like an angry whitehead on a model’s nose the day of a photo shoot.  An abomination, an embarrassment, something for my eyes to avert.  Carefully clipped pictures from glossy magazines, thought put into them, energy expended, placed next to the Googled images I’d printed out on the poster board I’d diligently purchased at Walgreens.

 

For those who aren’t familiar, Wikipedia defines a vision board as follows.  “A vision board or dream board is a collage of images, pictures and affirmations of one’s dreams and desires, designed to serve as a source of inspiration and motivation, and to use the law of attraction to attain goals.  The usefulness of vision boards has been endorsed by celebrities such as Jim Carrey, Ellen Degeneres, Oprah Winfrey and Steve Harvey."

 

It wasn’t the unfulfilled career goals that galled me.  There’s usually a couple of them.  I knew I’d reached for the stars with photos of Tonys and Broadway Theaters believing that it’s not the specific picture I might end up always end up with immediately but more the direction in which I’m heading.  None of that bothered me.  Not the cut outs of Story Contests and Championships I’d not won yet or the multitude of hundred dollar bills.  I knew they were on the way.  

 

It was the pictures of our son that butchered me.  His beaming smile next to the cut out letters that spelled “Adopted” with the other clippings I’d found of what he might look like older.  As a boy, as a teen, as a man.  My husband’s board reflected the same.  What to make of these now that he had passed away.

 

Does this mean vision boards are nonsense?  A metaphysical hoax?  Hope and energy that might be better directed somewhere else?  Or as my Irish ancestors would snort, “Malarkey”.

 

If anyone would have cause to pass on this New Year’s tradition it would be me.  No one would blame me this year after the results of last year’s board.  The thing is... I don’t want to.  I want to be constantly in wonder.  Jesse and I heard a rabbi at a Hanukkah service (we go everywhere for spiritual food) talk about being in radical amazement.  That’s who I want to be.  I’ve learned this  year that I don’t know much about why things happen but I know I don’t want to give up.  I’m going to have deeper intention, more divine focus, and continue to move in the direction I want to go.

 

This New Year’s Eve I’ll be buying my white board, sharpening my scissors, and uncapping my permanent glue stick.  “There’s nothing more boring then self pity”, I thought, watching last season’s vision board fall from the dumpster into the garbage truck.  I don’t want to be a non-believer.  I was the Cub Scout who made ornaments from dried macaroni and glitter.  Vision boards are the obvious next step.  

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