Too Old to Dream

When does one cease to dream?

When I grow too old to dream has long been a musical mantra for me. My golden ring on the merry-go-round, the carrot on the end of the stick.

When life seems too hard to bear, sliding into a daydream passes the time and soothes my nerves. But lately, sliding to another reality has gotten difficult. It’s harder to turn the switch from the stressful ‘now’ to ‘anywhere but here’.

Dreaming used to be ‘easy’. I could create alternate worlds and slide from setting to setting with ease. But lately, I don’t know if stress is winning, or if I’m simply getting too old. I can’t find the dreams.

The goals and plans I made are fading and, no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to make them real. I can’t see them, or feel them, or even, much to my dismay, visit them. I seem to have lost my ability to ‘dream’.

Without the ‘dreams’, the stories I want to tell aren’t as visible. Harder to write. Words don’t flow but the ideas are still there. In fact, I feel like age has deepened my understanding. Opened my senses to what was, what should be, and what will come. I’m not as afraid of the dark unknown as I used to be.

When I contemplate giving up; pulling back, letting life happen with me sitting on the sidelines, I feel an instant rebellion. No. I’m not ready to stop. To quit. I want the damn golden ring. I can still reach for it. I can still see it. I’m not blind. I’m growing old. But I’m not finished.

I’m not nearly done. But I may be done ‘dreaming’. Dreams aren’t real. They can’t be. Figments of my imagination do no good for anybody. What I need is a solid dose of reality. To stop pretending and give the thoughts and plans in my mind ‘life’.

It’s time for me to find a new mantra. To put away my childish dreams. I would love to experience success, even if it comes in small doses but I’ll settle for solid work. Turning the energy inside me into solid reality.

It’s time to stop dreaming, and begin my work.

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