"I stopped dreaming thirty years ago, " the old man said, "when I started seeing the world as it was rather than as it could be."
I could feel the old man's pain. My mind, clouded with cynicism, had begun to shut out the dreams of my youth. Oh, I know some of those dreams were wild and fantastic, but none were impossible, really.
"What happened to you that made you stop dreaming," I asked him.
"I settled with what life handed me, rather than the life I could have created."
"What would you do differently?"
The old man sighed, and with a tear in his eye said, "I would have followed that still, small voice that kept telling me what I was created to do, and not listened to the average folks of the world."
I turn forty-two next month. Forty wasn't bad. Forty-one, okay. But, forty-two, whoa. For some reason this birthday bothers me. I'm closer to death than I have ever been, and I'm average. My dreams were never average. I hate average, yet I find myself, like the old man, inching towards that comfort zone of accepting what life is offering me rather than creating the life I desire.
Everything fantastic in life starts with a dream.
For some reason this morning, I felt compelled to write about this. Maybe it's because you need encouragement to dream again. Maybe it's because it's time for me to dust off my old dreams and get to work creating the life that my small voice keeps telling me I should have.
Whatever the reason, let's start creating. I'm going to write down my dreams and goals and put a plan underneath them. Let me know what you are going to do.
"Dream no small dreams for they have no power to move the hearts of men." - Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe