To Dream an Impossible “Oprah” Dream
My mother fell ill when Oprah announced she was going off the air after twenty-five years, I felt that Oprah had abandoned me as well.
Dreaming an “Oprah” Dream
By Meg Nocero
I have always had a difficult time dealing with change. If a certain lifestyle worked for me, when circumstances changed, I would fight them. In 2006, three years after the birth of my son, Michael, I was sure that if I organized myself and delegated better, all would be well. But it was not working. I would attempt to make my old routine fit into my new life.
Instead of allowing the new to be what it was, I refused to surrender to the past. I felt like I was losing my mind. I was working full-time, taking care of a toddler, renovating and redecorating our small apartment while we lived in it, and still trying to get back into shape. I was exhausted, increasingly depressed and my relationships, especially with my husband, suffered. I felt stuck. I felt more and more resentful as I looked in the mirror and saw the shell of the person I once had been.
During this time, I asked the universe for help. A colleague from work suggested that I change my perspective, another friend introduced me to the law of attraction. Then I came upon the inspiring acceptance speech given by Oprah Winfrey for the Elie Wiesel Foundation. Listening intently to her speech, I received many God-winks, a term coined by SQuire Rushnell to define personal experiences that are seen as signs of divine intervention. I asked myself the questions that Oprah posed so eloquently: “Dear God, how do I fulfill my potential here on Earth? Dear God, how can I be used in service to that which is greater than myself? Dear God, am I on the right path?”
Until then, I had never thought about living intentionally. I was moving through life, numb. Good things happened some days, and other days I just hoped to survive. Now I forced myself to pay attention to the song in my soul. Oprah went on to say that we are all blessed with privilege, and when we leave this Earth, we will be asked, how did you serve, who were you able to save, what did you do for the powerless, broken, and suffering? The Aha! came when she said we were all free agents for the Divine, managers for the spiritual forces within us. We have the power to transform our lives and the lives of people we know. Late at night, when I heard this, I felt that God was talking directly to me.
I was convinced that service would save me as long as I taught and inspired exactly where I was. Only there would I have the power to transform. Wow! While I had always been a fan of Oprah, now I saw her as magical too. From that point on, I looked to Oprah, alongside my mother, for insight and inspiration. I became a voracious reader of all things aligned with the power of intention and the spiritual inquiry into my purpose, calling, and consciousness. Oprah became a part of my Mastermind Group, a concept described by the author Napoleon Hill in Think and Grow Rich. I was in search, both in a real and imaginary sense, for mentors, great thinkers, and history’s greatest achievers who could help me envision my own purpose.
How did this help me as I faced my new normal now that my mom had died? Well, in reality, it did not. With my mother’s death, I felt like the leader of my Mastermind Group had abandoned me. I reverted to a victim role and chose not to remember anything that could help me. My mother fell ill when Oprah announced she was going off the air after twenty-five years. I know it sounds self-focused, but I felt that Oprah had abandoned me as well. So ultimately, I felt that I’d lost my mom, my mentor, and the chance of realizing both seemingly impossible dreams.
Let me explain. One of my mother’s favorite songs was “The Impossible Dream” from Man of La Mancha, the musical inspired by Don Quixote, the seventeenth-century work of one of the world’s preeminent novelists, Spanish writer Miguel de Cervantes. The words of this song encouraged those who listened never to give up as they reached for the unreachable star. So with this focus, I set out to find a way to keep my mom’s hope for healing alive. By dreaming big and realizing something considered to be impossible, my “plan” was to show my mother a miraculous experience that could happen. Fueled by this impossible dream of meeting Oprah, I made a new vision board. On it, I put photos of my mother protected by angels, and right next to that, I put a photo of me and a photo of Oprah waving at her audience. Then, I set out to get tickets to one of Oprah’s final shows in Chicago on a mission.
I told everyone my plan, and they helped as well. But, I felt that if I grabbed onto my impossible “Oprah dream” and it came true, then my mother would believe that all things were possible for her as well. Silly and simple, I know, but I didn’t want to let go.
Impatient and unwilling just to wait, I called my best friend, Lisa, who was always up for an adventure, and asked her if she wanted to go to Chicago in October of 2010 to see if we could get last-minute tickets. Of course, knowing how much this meant to me, she said yes. Then Aimee joined the fun, though the truth is told, more importantly, she came to see her beloved Notre Dame play football.
When we arrived at the W Hotel on a Thursday night, we asked the concierge to help us. He looked at us with incredulity, as this was the hottest ticket in town. On Friday morning, we took a taxi to Harpo Studios hoping that divine intervention would allow us into one of the two shows. As we approached the studio, we saw the audience lined up for the two tapings.
Bursting with excitement, everyone was waiting for their big chance to meet Oprah. I was jealous. It was like Fort Knox—security all over. We took pictures outside the studio and then crossed the street to the Oprah Store and chatted with the staff about our optimistic half-brained scheme. We hoped they would give us three tickets. It did not happen.
Two dreams died within a matter of two months: My mother passed away in April of 2011, and Oprah went off the air in May.
I felt defeated on both fronts. I remember sitting on my couch watching Oprah say goodbye to her audience on that last episode and experiencing my mother’s final moments all over again.
I slipped into a depression when the grieving process began. The evidence showed that prayers were not answered, and dreams did not come true after all. I started to question everything I had learned thus far and had no earthly idea how this whole experience could ever be a part of my evolution to becoming the person I was meant to be.
April 12, 2018, The Seventh Anniversary of My Mother’s Passing
We are not here to grow comfortably numb. This is not why we have shown up at this time or this place in this world. A life so constrained by judgments or mores, we—I—can’t do that anymore! Seven years ago, my mother left the physical plane. She would be joining me as I set out in two days on the adventure I sought to shake out of the doldrums.
If that meant stepping out of my comfort zone for one moment, one hour, one season, I would do what I needed to do to uncover the answers within and get my happy ending to this chapter.
Wake up to that truth. Wake up to the belief that this body is the vessel, the beautiful, perfect vessel whose energy attracts me to others, whose energy is the invitation to what I most truly want or desire, whose energy will bring me what I am willing and consciously setting out to find. So I will put one foot in front of the other, mile by mile, and one memory to the next. Awake, alive, aroused—I will let the world permeate my very being, allowing my soul to blossom and, along with it, the dream that was born in me long ago.
I refuse to believe that the child within me is gone. I stand up against the notion that the dream has dissipated with her celestial body. I will not remain comfortably numb. That is not why I am here. That is not why I have shown up at this time. Judgments or mores no longer constrain my life. It is love that I ultimately serve—for that, I move on and out of the invisible cage doors—opening up my world to a new beginning each morning when I open my eyes to life. Ovid wrote, “Fortune and love favor the brave.” Yes, I choose to be brave, and with that choice, I will love and feel loved—no longer numb.
After discussing with my son why I chose to go on this trip and do something in the face of a world gone awry, I told him my mother would always say, “You fight evil with good.”
Then I wrote him this poem:
I will not stand by and watch things of hate just unfold.
You were born from glory, and that story will be told.
To sit on a throne and look down throwing gold,
Will do none of us good for our souls won’t be sold.
Instead, I rise up for justice with others who are bold,
And speak truth to wrongs, we will not be so trolled.
And my wish for you child as you grow to be old,
Never take for granted your blessings,
For others gave life for love to take hold.
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About the Author
Meg Nocero, Esq., is a former federal prosecutor, inspirational speaker, certified empowerment coach, and award-winning author of Butterfly Awakens: A Memoir of Transformation Through Grief
This excerpt is republished with Permission
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