I’ve written here about dreams several times: literally, about strange or slightly psychotic wedding premonitions, and more figuratively about the kind you write down or hold deep in your soul.
As a young girl, I dreamed I’d be a famous writer or painter. New York City was a dream. I dreamed of authoring children’s books. My dream was to have my own house, to have money, to one day to be a mother. There was a dream, too, to do something important.
I think I’m honored to check off a few of these things, but oddly, I feel a little empty with check marks next to them. Life is so much fuller with big things out on the horizon.
Years ago, Martin Luther King, Jr. said some words about dreams. Here’s to never giving in to dreams, to keeping them out there bobbing in the distance.