Dream a Little Dream

Remember when you were little and would dream and fantasize about all the things you would do and have and be when you were older? Those dreams were exciting and full of hope and promise. Anything was possible. Now, I’m finding that dreaming is a lot scarier. If you give voice to dreams, let yourself want them, you’re opening yourself to the chance of them being denied, stomped on, broken, never achieved. That’s a lot to risk.

I’m reading all these books that tell me that one key to happiness is reigniting that ability to dream and want things – all kinds of things. They can range from wanting to have fancy houses and private jets to having a big, loud happy family, or just traveling the world. I want desperately to keep dreaming – I WANT to want things, set goals, and go for them. But there are some goals that I know I can’t have, or I can’t possibly figure out how in this universe they can happen. And that makes me sad.

I certainly haven’t given up. And I want to kick complacency straight in the crotch. If I settle, I will only resent it later. I have dreams, even if it will take me awhile to calm the fears and give voice to them.  As we’ve already established in this blog, I’m terrified all the time. In this moment, I’m terrified of opening up that Pandora’s box of dreams and wants, only to not be able to have them. But I’m more terrified of pushing my dreams out of the way and stuffing them in a closet.

Not sure what any of this means, really. But wish me luck while I figure it out. God knows I’ll need it.