Dream a Little Dream

A dream is a fragile thing. Its first feelers are tentative, searching for solidity. Then the taproots go down, and it starts to reach further for water and grow taller toward the warmth of the sun. A little sprout bursts out of the earth in fervent hope, and as the rain falls it grows, stronger and sturdier. And finally, it blooms--a beautiful thing to behold.

Why are we scared to dream?
Is it the fear of failure?
Or the fear of success?

I was born dreaming. My mind was the safest place I knew--an immediate retreat from embarassment, boredom, or fear. An unwelcome worry would push its way into my thoughts, and as a little girl I knew simply to push back. A worry would pop in and I would slip into another world, a world where I already was who I wanted to be.
Then one day, I heard an enlightened grown-up say that socially inhibited or lonely children were more apt to daydream (and talk to themselves, go figure. I didn't do that, except when I was writing stories in my mind and acting out all the parts myself). Daydreaming, they said, was escapism: a way to put off reality.

"Well, of course it is," I thought. "Silly grown-ups. I figured that out all by myself."

I liked my escape. But the words nettled, and I didn't want to be "socially inhibited" when I grew up (it sounded like some awful illness). And so we all learn not to dream, to plant our feet firmly on reality.

Reality in itself is not so bad. The only problem with living there is that eventually you will hit a wall, and it is the wall called "impossible." Reality's limits and boundaries are there to be explored, but they pen in the adventurous soul. The dreamer wants to get up higher, to mount the impossible wall and use it to gain a better view. The limits are there not to show him where the road ends, but where it begins.

In the end, perhaps Reality is safer. One need not fear falling if he never tries to climb. He will be accepted by his fellow man, content to brush shoulders with all instead of looking down on any. He might even gain the sweeping compliment of being a "well-grounded individual." His life will be "safe--expedient--and thin." The dreamer certainly has risk. He might not reach his goal, and the disappointment then is certainly deep.Emerson says he can expect to be misunderstood. His friends may term him "moonstruck" while his enemies use "mad." But then there's the chance--the slim, vibrant, fighting chance--that he might end up where he wanted to be. A tamer of his lions, a catcher of his stars. A dreamer.

So don't be afraid, friend. Reach deep. Climb high. Start again. And always, always, DREAM.