Sometimes our dreams are destroyed, by no one other than ourselves. And there's nobody we can blame, no matter how much we try. Sometimes we see our dreams passing by, but we don't have the courage to follow them. We start to find excuses as to why we missed our chance. Did we kill the dream, or did they?
And as we get old, we travel through memoryland and we start to regret having missed our chance. But have we? Is there an age limit to dream? And if so, how old is it? Can't we start over pretending to be a kid? How far can you go? How much can you risk? Isn't it better to live knowing that you took that risk?
But when the odds are too high we stand back, afraid to fly. We wonder how long will be the fall, how much effort it will cost. We are not all gamblers, we can't always beat the odds and that's our excuse to stand back and pretend the dream is lost. But what if it isn't? What if it's just waiting for you to fight? Just waiting for you to go back into believing it's possible. Just waiting for you to take that one chance.
Close your eyes and think: what are the dreams you forgot to dream? Is it too late for you? What are the chances you missed for fear? For fear of what, exactly? Not being able to accomplish them or of being succeeding? Now just think of your new dreams. Will you run away from them too? Will you come up with excuses? Or will you stick your feet and fight for them, go after them, wherever they lead you. Or are willing to spend the rest of your life looking back and regretting having missed the chance?
Thaís.
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