When is it that we forget how to dream?
When does that exact moment occur, when we look forward without first sending our dreams before us like trusted guides to follow? I like to think never, but I would be lying.
Dreams came easy when cloaked with the optimistic attitude of the young. Even during the tumultuous, ‘will I ever survive’ times of youth, dreams, aspirations of success, and possibilities bubbled through my mind, overflowing easily into my everyday life. Optimism whispered always to keep pushing, keep looking forward. The call was to chase those dreams, go after them with all you’ve got. Having those dreams to follow, told you that anything really, truly was possible.
But somewhere along the way, my dreams started to weaken, to fade into memories as opposed to possibilities. I can’t quite pinpoint when I started to mentally shelf first one then the other. I don’t know the instance when I felt too weary to push a particular aspiration forward. I wonder if soon, when I pause to peer back through the years, will I see, and recognize the litter of my dreams scattered and forgotten behind me?
I need to keep on, keep on dreaming, keep on pushing, because it is only when we turn away do dreams die.
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”