Dreams have always been humanity’s most daring invention. Evolution gave
us REM Sleep, that strange ministry of dreams, so we could practice the
possible before stepping into the real. Our nightly dreams clarify; our daytime
dreams complicate. They stir up fear and desire, push us forward with urgency,
and remind us of the fact that life itself is both fragile and magnificent. To
dream is to risk stepping onto a raft and paddling across the roiling ocean of
what could be. The danger, of course, is that we may sink. Yet the greater
danger lies in never dreaming at all, drifting through life on autopilot,
marooned in the “givens” of time, place, and culture.
Writers and poets have long insisted that dreamers are the ones truly
awake to life. They are the bold architects of the “possible,” daring to
imagine beyond the probable. Their dreams are not distractions from reality but
acts of deep engagement with it. The poet Rainer Maria Rilke urged us to “live
the questions,” while Walt Whitman reminded us that no one can grow for
another. To dream, then, is both a responsibility and a privilege—it means
claiming authorship of your own future.
But here lies the tension: many of our dreams are not really ours. They
are borrowed, the hand-me-down ambitions of our parents, the glossy ideals of
advertising, the tidy templates of culture. True dreaming asks us to strip
these away until we find what belongs to us alone. That’s when dreams become
more than castles in the air; they become the foundations of an authentic life.
As I write this, I hope my
friends and Family feel inspired to reflect on their own dreams. Are you living
yours, or carrying someone else’s? There is joy in owning your own vision and
courage in daring to act on it.
Originally Published on https://boomersnotsenior.blogspot.com/
