Living the Dream

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

I remember hearing that all through my childhood and even into my early adult hood. However looking back and trying to recall just what my answers were feels like walking through a thick cloud. Often times I can't really remember and then there are the answers I think I said, like becoming an airline stewardess, a teacher, a doctor and even a lawyer or veterinarian.

People often claim that you can take a look at your "What if's?" and then make a correlation to just what might inspire you. For me growing up, I've always LOVED books. In fact from the time I began to read, I was a voracious reader. I remember one summer when our local book mobile came to our neighborhood (think portable library on wheels) I took as many books as I could check out. My favorites were anything to do with horses, Black Beauty, Misty of Chincoteague, Stormy Misty's Foal, and countless others. I read anything that was considered a classic and we were rewarded by the librarian for every book we finished. I remember I couldn't wait to redeem my weeks worth of reading for some cool plastic animals that looked like they were made of glass.

Yet my love for books never faded. It was far better than television ever was. I guess that was before the days of 24 hour cable programming. In fact the only childhood programming I can recall was 2 hours on Saturday morning when I would devote myself to watching the Bugs Bunny/Road Runner Show and then after that all the major networks switched to sports. The only other time you could find anything suitable was Sunday evenings for the Wonderful World of Disney and during the week just after school. So books gave me that virtual escape. I could truly be anything I wanted to be.

Even in grade school I wrote short silly stories of my own. Oh how I wish I would have kept them. I think some of my best creativity was when I was a child and truly believed anything was possible. Until the day I grabbed my umbrella, climbed to the top of my roof top, opened my umbrella and jumped. Thankfully I didn't break anything except my spirit and belief that not everything you dream is real. I still LOVE Mary Poppins however.

In high school my favorite classes were English. I loved the opportunity to write. Essays were like winning the lottery to me. It gave me a chance to pour out my heart and soul through words on a notebook page. Again before the invention of computers or even word processors. We didn't own a typewriter so writing by hand was the way to go. Penmanship still counted for something because your teacher needed to be able to read it to grade it. I didn't mind the dreaded "red pen!" It was a chance for me to improve and get better. A chance to keep on learning so I could be great at something. Life really took a turn for the better towards the end of my high school year, with Creative Writing classes. I think if I was on my death bed, I would still have made every effort to attend that class. I finally found a place to fit in. I wasn't a nerd or athletic or even had a lot of friends. In fact I had only 2 through each grade in high school. I didn't really fit in anywhere until I had the chance to write. To express what was happening in my head and what I saw happening in my imagination.

I got to color outside the lines in that course. I was never told my ideas were too far fetched or outside the possibilities of that really happening. Nothing was off limits in that class. We invented imaginary worlds, characters and dabbled in every type of genre imaginable. I took that love of writing even further and continued to write into adult life as well. Writing romance novels where the leading lady was always in danger and needed to be rescued. Perhaps that was a way of me explaining a part of myself that needed to be rescued from the mundane. But I never did anything with my stories except to file them away in a keepsake to remember my love of writing.

Now looking back on those times I see a new light dawning. I feel like the sun is shining once more and besides being blessed with the ability to read for free now, through reviewing books through a variety of publishers, I am taking up writing once again. I've discovered authors just like myself that have tried for years to keep their writing skills polished enough to eventually see their books published. I've been encouraged along the way by several authors who have inspired me once again to pick up my proverbial pen and take a go at writing again. In fact, just yesterday I found myself going through a proposed book idea and rereading those chapters once again and marveled at why I stopped going four years ago.

In fact I felt dried up and lacking in my ability to use my words once again. But I was encouraged to just sit down and write. Don't look at what you are writing and attempt to revise it right then, but just get my ideas, words and thoughts on paper.

You know what I found?

My creativity started flowing like water slowly finding a leak in a wall and soon ideas were pouring out faster than I could capture them on paper. In fact I had to walk around yesterday with a notebook and pen just to keep them from becoming a distant memory.

I think dreams are important.

I think we need more cheerleaders in the world and less people who will tell us to take our silly notions and save that for a hobby.

I think more of us need to look at our hobbies and really find a way to make them work for us.

The world would truly be a wonderful place if every single day people went to work, doing something they actually LOVED to do.

Imagine what would happen if dreams stopped being dreams and started to come true?

What would you do if simply making your dreams come true was just to stop dreaming about them and took a step towards make them a reality?

Whatever it is, I think you should do it. Take some time to dance in the rain and really enjoy the life, Jesus worked so hard to make enjoyable. The only thing holding you back is YOU!

Take a different path today and see where your own journey takes you!