Gon' Get Your Dreams Back
A majority of my peers have children. Juice spilling, nose running, high energy children. The type of children that make new friends at the playground, pick bugs from the dirt and run across bridges that should be terrifying for their 6 year old selves. They have the children that prefer to eat with their hands, talk on their fake cell phones and get in "grown folks business". The kind of children with big mouths and even bigger dreams.
"I'm gonna be an astronaut, no matter what!"
My response is usually: "you will become an astronaut!" or "make sure you go to college!"
They have the type of children that don't care what your response is, they were still going to be it; they didn't ask your opinion, they just wanted to share. The children that play [read: work] day in and day out to ensure they reach their professional goals by age 7. They speak to who they must, go to meetings and ask mommy for a dollar to fund their pursuit.
I used to dream that big and do that much. Blurting out occupations that I knew no one with, but wanted to do anyway. Occupations that seemed as exciting as the life I was living 20 years ago - no job, no bills, just life. And if you were anything like me, you dreamt big too. You wanted to be something magnificent like the 6-year old aspiring astronaut. You wanted to be something larger than anyone could've ever imagined. You told everyone you came in contact with and played games that aligned with this new-found professional passion.
You made friends and managed your social life, but when you got home from the park it was strictly business. Back to your little pink purse (that you considered your briefcase) and your nights of fighting bedtime. You couldn't bare to sleep because being awake was more exciting for you. You were working toward your little 6-year old dreams and you couldn't be happier.
You woke up each day and went about it with enthusiasm. Life may have thrown a few curveballs your way, but you quickly got over the emotional disruption of them all, and carried on. Nothing was standing in the way of you and your imaginary business calls, on your imaginary cell phone (thumb & pinky finger), and your imaginary files that were usually discarded from your mother's real job. You loved your 6-year old life and you loved your 6-year old job.
But, what happened?
Who in the world made you throw your briefcase to the floor and shred your files? Who in the world made you give up on your dreams? What in the world has you feeling like you're not good enough and you can't do it? Who told you you couldn't be an astronaut or a doctor or a cloud?
Somewhere over those following 19, 20, 21...30, 31...40... years, you lost it. You lost your drive. You lost your dreams. And, you even lost that imaginary cell phone you used to handle so much business. At some point you smashed into a society that told you what you couldn't be. You crashed right into a sea of people telling you what you shouldn't do. You ran into oceans of unsolicited and opinions and unwelcome opposition. You found yourself in fiery pits of fear and failure.
Somewhere over those following 19, 20, 21...30, 31...40... years, you stopped dreaming. You threw those elaborate goals in the same place you threw your mother's discarded files when you were finished with them. You threw your hopes in the trash next to your pretty pink purse (that you used as your briefcase).
It's time for you to go back for them.
Ignore the loud screams of society and focus in on your own whispers. The whispers of your inner voice telling you to go for it. The voice telling you to reach for the stars. The voice telling you to pick up your pink purse that may now be your briefcase and start trekking. Start heading in the direction of your deepest desires. Pick up your shattered glass of goals and put them in a new place - a nice vase atop your mantelpiece, perhaps.
Dig deep into your child-like self and recall your greatest aspirations. Revisit the many conversations you had on your imaginary cell phone and try finding the notes you etched on your childhood headboard, wall, or dresser drawer with your plans of conquering the world.
Find the heart you left with your 6-year old self and pick that sh-t back up. Load it with your passion and put it back in your chest. Chase your dreams like you did when you were a child. Share them with those around you, like you did with your parents, siblings and the kids at the playground.
Map out the life you want like you did in your art class. And do it. Get there. Become it. Whatever "it" is for you. Snatch it up and make it work. Just like you did for your 6-year old self. It won't be easy. The yells of disapproval and misunderstanding won't quiet down - they'll always be there. The road won't be re-paved - it'll always have potholes. Do it anyway. Just like you did as a child - not accepting any opinions and not needing any response. Work hard, make a way and do it. Because you promised yourself you'd be an astronaut...no matter what!