facing the sun

Suvin cotton
Hand painted by Paradisaea
Spring 2017


Magic happens
when you don’t give up,
even though you want to.

The universe
always falls in love
with a stubborn heart.

- Unknown

What would happen if we didn’t give up on our dreams?

Dreams are not an easy topic. It feels difficult to talk about them. Why? This specific question has haunted me in the past weeks. Why does it often feel somehow… awkward to be honest about your dreams?

Maybe it’s the vast amount of clichés around the topic. Maybe dreams don’t feel serious enough of a thing for a grown up. But what would be more important than dreams?

I believe we are created to dream. By dreaming I mean now not only fleeting inner wishes or passing interests, but something that is much more profound and deep in us: the question about our desires.

We all have them. I believe we are born with them. Just look at kids. They dream so much of their time - and they still possess the faith in their dreams. Dreaming is innate for us.

At some point along the way a shift happens, though. Something that makes dreams a potentially awkward topic. For some reason many adults have given up a large portion of their dreams, or archived them to the locker that says “Unessential things / Luxuries / Indulgences”. At the age of twentysomething it’s still easy to believe that everything is possible. The famous crisis of turning 30 might actually be a lot about realising that that’s not the case; not everything is possible anymore. Eventually, sooner or later, the dreams we started with crash with life, and disappointment steps in.

Maybe we don’t get to study what we want. Maybe the person who we thought was the love of our life walks out on us. Maybe there’s loss, sickness, pain. Maybe we find ourselves in a place in our lives that looks completely different from the land of dreams we were looking for.

It’s hard enough on a personal level. Add the universal pain of the world to the equation and dreams can start to feel like silly things. I might not be the only one who became a mother and to her horror realised how dangerous the world actually is. I’m painfully aware of my privilege and the fact that the safety we live in IS the ultimate dream of many. Realising this only adds to the mental pain. What are my dreams in a world like this? And how does one keep on dreaming at all in the midst of the pain?

Dreams just don’t often seem to come true in this world. Maybe that’s why we so easily give up on them and discard them like childhood play items. To keep on dreaming means to be vulnerable. It might feel easier to give up and protect your heart from the pain of possible more disappointment.

The problem with that, however, is that then you are actually half dead already.
The heart was meant to dream on. Created to dream on.

There’s a thought that has helped me a lot with this. It goes like this: in this broken world I have pretty much just two choices. One: Give up and despair. Two: Search for a life of prayer. I’ve come to think that the biggest mistake would be to choose despair.
It might be my dreams don’t come true. But for the life of me I don’t want to be the one who makes the agreement.

My revelation was this: what if I’ve understood dreams in a wrong way? If my dreams are just fleeting whims, they will look silly when reality hits them. But what if they are supposed to be something more profound?

What if dreaming is actually a posture of the heart; an attitude, a determination, a stubbornness? The relentless choice to not let go? A reckless determination to take the risk of dreaming? The firm decision to keep your heart alive, no matter what, for the biggest thing you could lose would be to lose your heart?

I believe we were meant to dream. And I do believe that dreamers often are the ones who see miraculous things happen. Maybe it’s because they’ll make choices that help the dream come true. Maybe they just keep on dreaming so long and endure so many disappointments that in the end they find the dream. Maybe they don’t have anything to lose and are willing to risk everything. “I have a dream”, said Martin Luther King, and see what happened...! Dreaming is important. The world is a broken place, but dreamers can mend so much of it. Heal it.

Maybe dreamers still have the child’s faith. Isn’t that what a stubborn heart is about? There’s a verse in New Testament that says “faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see” (Hebrews 11:1). What if dreaming was about this - reckless confidence in things we do not yet even see…?

Trough these thoughts came an idea. I wanted to dedicate this warp to serious dreams. To reclaiming dreams. So, this warp, called “Facing The Sun”, will be all about dreams. About the choice to turn your face to the Sun even when there’s different kinds of darkness behind your back. I wish it to be about claiming dreams, sticking to them, holding onto them, choosing to commit to them. Choosing the good over the bad. What ever it means.

My father has a habit of saying “Se kasvaa, mihin katsot”. That’s Finnish for something like “the thing you choose to look at will grow bigger”. If I don’t choose faith and dreams, I’ll give space for fears and worry. What if goodness grows when I turn my face to the Sun?

All the pieces from Facing The Sun will be named along the thoughts of their future wearers; they're given names to reflect dreams that live with those families.