The old dreams
Maybe it's the sunshine. Maybe it's the call I got this morning from a reader. Maybe it's just because I finally got a good night's sleep.
Whatever the case, it feels good just to be alive this Wednesday morning.
Oh, I'm not going to lie. I'm still bummed about losing Skip. I'm still disappointed in a few things.
But I remembered something that Helen Keller said once. She said that we focus so much on the door that closes that we don't take the time to walk through the door that opens as a result. There's so much truth to that.
I guess I've had my share of broken dreams. But, I've also had more than my share of sweet surprises. If I were to quit feeling sorry for myself and put them all on a scale, I promise you it would tip toward the good -- and it wouldn't even be close.
A fictional character, looking back over his life, once said this about broken dreams:
"The old dreams were good dreams. They didn't work out, but I'm glad I had 'em."
It was the best part of an otherwise forgettable novel, and I couldn't agree more. Sometimes you get caught up in the moment, so focused on the hurt, that even getting up in the morning doesn't make much sense.
Then you remember why doing so is usually so much fun.
I don't guess some of my most cherished dreams will come true, either. But, it's OK. I'm glad I had 'em, too. I can promise you that life would have been quite dull without them.
And, what the hell. I'll still be here, meeting deadlines, telling stories, having fun, reading good prose, hearing good music on Sunday nights (thanks, Robin!), thinking 'bout women and fishin' and loving life.
So, here's to the old dreams, the good dreams, even if they didn't quite work out. And here's to dreaming plenty more.
Labels: dreams
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