Romanticism is one way of looking at the world.
Realism is another.
Both have pros and cons.
Both sit nicely juxtaposed on a meme.
Romanticizing things tends to be the main reason people don't end up being satisfied in life. They give themselves these lofty dreams of what [insert thing here] should be like, and then when it doesn't pan out as 24/7 happiness as they imagined it they want out or drop it. I believe this is why Americans divorce a lot, why people can't stick with a job for more than a year, why our culture is a certain way, and why Americans do many of the things they do. I'm here to tell you that I am the biggest romantic there is... yet, unlike most of America, I also know the value in being a romantic and how to weigh it up against reality (my wife also helps, since she is an absolute realist - which is why we HELP each other, not negate or disagree).
Life experience has told me that doing the things I have romanticized does show you that they aren't exactly what you imagined, but that doesn't mean I didn't (or don't) love them. In fact, life would be pretty boring if I hadn't attempted to fulfill those romantic notions. And in fact, I'm so incredibly happy and satisfied - because at the end of the day, I am not rooted in the fantasy or in the reality, I'm rooted in Christ; and He dwells within me and always surprises me, real or fantastic. And so I keep romanticizing things and am excited to one day, God willing, experience some of them, such as the one I will mention below. (2018 edit led me to stop with just this one experience)
I romanticize[d] Vocation (big V for a lifetime commitment).
I imagine[d] being married and it being basically the best thing ever. Kids are great, right?[Um... have you ever been anywhere you enjoy being by yourself, with friends, or with a date? Place kids in that picture that you are responsible for and have to be focused on before yourself. Yeah, that image just drastically changed.]
I imagine[d] being a father and teaching my kids and loving them in all the ways all fathers before me have failed in. I imagine it being perfect -- they are well disciplined, we play every day when I get home from work, and on the weekends I find quality time spent with them as well as my wife.
[I'm one of eight kids. My Dad's an incredible, saintly man. I have watched him do so many right things that I want to emulate, as well as a lot of things I would do differently. I know for a fact that his life is in no way perfect... so who am I kidding? Can I actually be a better father than him?]
I imagine[d] being a priest and basically being a bomb homilist, great confessor, and just helping people grow in love for Christ. And on top of that, I would get to travel to awesome places and just become a (S)aint so easily!
[Hmmm... I know some incredible priests, but their lives are by no means perfect, and I am sure they still long for a family of their own quite frequently.]
*Side story that sort of sparked this blog entry:
I was at a concert with my sister and two of my brothers the other night. We had lawn seats, and this is the way the venue was set up: there was a huge wooden, outdoor auditorium that was positioned at the foot of a long hillside with stadium style seating for about a football field in length going up the hill, and then the rest moving upward was lawn seating. As I was looking down on the band playing, I saw a man and a woman, obviously husband and wife, with their son who was probably around seven or eight. It took me a second to realize he had a disability as he flailed his hand around and couldn't stand still, with no apparent ability to pay attention to the concert. His father was holding his left hand, and after he flailed his right hand around for a while and stared around in different directions, his right came near enough to his mother's left hand that she could take hold of it. So many feelings and emotions continued to filter through my mind, heart, and soul as I watched this family, this beautiful family, enjoy the concert in their own very unique way. After some time the dad grabbed his son and placed him on top of his shoulders so he could look over all of the people to see the band playing below us in the outdoor auditorium. What a struggle having a child with a disability must have, but I cannot imagine anything making a family closer. In fact, you have to become close unless you reject the love necessary to be given to someone so helpless. And I don't think I want a child with a disability, but I also think I do. I romanticized what I saw there with that family. But I wasn't seeing the daily struggle of caring for a child with a disability. That child never will "eventually grow up" and be able to care for himself. His parents lives will probably never have the "retirement freedom" that I might romanticize about being married and having kids grow up and become great citizens.
