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The power of dreams
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The power of dreams

Anna Cristina Tuazon

The end of the year is where dreams and reality meet. The end of things tends to bring out an urge to reflect on the time that has gone by. We evaluate ourselves to see whether we have done the things we set out to do. We think back on the highs and lows of the year that was. Hopefully, we also reflect on the things we have learned and the wisdom we have gained. While the start of the year is all about dreams and resolutions, by December, our dreams brush up against reality. We see where our intentions took us. Did they lead us to happiness? Contentment? Did they lead us astray and distract us from things that, we belatedly realize, matter more?

In organizations, this reflection manifests as the fourth quarter review and strategic planning. We recently had such a meeting at our clinical organization, where we aimed to set our vision for the next five to 10 years. The discussion turned toward each member’s dreams for themselves, as well as the organization, with the hope that improving the alignment between individual and collective visions can lead to better growth. One person brought up a concern: What if their mentee does not dream?

I realized then that dreaming has increasingly become a luxury, especially for Filipinos. Dreaming requires space for growth. To dream means to recognize a direction for change or expansion. To dream requires recognition of our potential and trust that the environment can help us actualize it. If there is no such space, there are no dreams.

Upward social mobility is a socioeconomic construct built on dreams. The concept of being able to improve one’s economic standing—whether through hard work, luck, or generational wealth—hinges on its possibility. If our experience instead shows us the contrary, that we are stuck in financial precariousness no matter what we do, then what use is it to strive hard to improve one’s lot in life?

This is one of the many ways that economics intersects with mental health. If our wages remain stagnant while our cost of living accelerates, how else can we experience it but as a sort of drowning? If our life savings can be wiped out with one hospital stay, how else can we feel about our lives but as a sandcastle swept away by the waves of the sea? In such a state where survival is fragile, one cannot afford to dream of a better life. One does not design their dream life when one is too busy preserving their real one.

Last week, I already talked about the infamous P500 ”noche buena” budget (see “The ‘noche buena’ we deserve,” 12/4/25). One of the things it did to us was that it robbed us of dreaming of a better experience, a better life. Pertaining to the dream-reality balance, it slammed us with the reality that that is all we can afford. That idyllic picture of a glazed ham with all the fixings? Stop dreaming and make do.

The powerful are afraid of a nation that dreams. There is a final phase of colonization, after external force and coercion, where the colonized internalize their colonizers and start oppressing themselves. Once colonization of the mind happens, we consider colonization complete. The colonizers can sit back and relax and trust that the colonized will no longer fight back. They could even fight on your behalf.

To reach this point, however, you must first control their dreams. You can either stop them from dreaming completely or dictate what they can dream about. This is why oppressive governments hate writers and artists, since they encourage people to dream and imagine. This is why Jose Rizal and his writings were such a threat to the Spanish government. This is why censorship—sometimes disguised as antilibel and anticyberbullying—is the weapon of choice for most governments that want to control their nation’s narrative. Without a dream, people stop fighting back. People stop fighting for change.

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If you can supplant their dreams with a dream convenient to your regime, even better. If you delude them into thinking that their meager wages are more than enough, you have successfully stopped them from wanting more. If you lead them to think that building more roads and flyovers—while, in reality, pocketing those funds for your own use—leads to less traffic and therefore a better life, you will get no dissent nor any interest in regulating your projects. If you convince your people that corruption is already being successfully rooted out, while being very selective in who gets jail time and who gets a pass, then your people will no longer dream of genuine good governance.

Having a dream is a sign of a healthy society. Allowing people to have their own dreams is a sign of a free society. The existence of dreams indicates that people see room for growth and expansion. It also indicates a yearning for freedom. Dreams allow us to explore our potential, inviting us to imagine a better life.

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aatuazon@up.edu.ph

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