Many of us spend quite a bit of our time dreaming, imagining how our life would be if the plans that we are so eager to share with anyone that would listen would come to fruition. I've personally been called a hopeless dreamer so many times I can't even begin to count them, but it was only until I started to embrace cynicism, when the years started to show that I finally understood the compliment had a tinge of an insult.

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Living in Reality

As defined by those who are fluent in sarcasm and other dark arts, is the only goal in life that matters. As much as I would like to agree with such a statement, I have a hard time embracing it simply because its a negative outlook disguised as wise pragmatism. The hidden message behind the words most of the time is an attack on our idealistic self, the one that shows it's face when the conversation are a little too inspiring.

Of course It's not hard for me to understand the value of having both feet on the ground, of having the right reaction to life's problems and challenges. Ignoring reality has dire costs indeed, but I would argue that killing the dreamer inside of us is even more taxing than we would like to accept.

Remembering....

A time of blissful simplicity, of conversations uncontrolled by the fear of being judged. The days when you used to tell anyone who would listen how you had your life all planned out. Was it that long ago? Where you so different then? I'm asking this, only because I ask these questions to myself.

There are those days where I too doubt, where I look at myself in the mirror, see the gray hairs of my beard and wonder if that's still me. As much as I recognize the person staring back, the idealistic person who has not forgotten how to smile, I also see the side of me that lives in reality settling in, making itself right at home.

I guess that's why I value this place so much, why I love doing the Radio Show as much as I do. I get to visit that part of me, the dreamer, the idealist, the one who is not too concerned with tomorrow and feels a lot more comfortable in his skin.

Are all these thoughts, all these words scattered on this short thought an attempt to keep my inner child alive? Maybe... Maybe that's it, maybe that's the way to balance, to happiness, to fulfillment, to purpose...

And If that's the case, I still refuse to grow up...