As we approach the final days of 2024, I find myself glancing back and peering forward.
My word for the year was “adventure” and because I am an all-in kinda girl, it started with an event I swore I’d never do—the Polar Bear Plunge. The action I initiated on Day One of 2024 continued in ebbs and flows throughout the next twelve months. I joined a soccer team, enrolled in a dance class, travelled with friends and family, spoke on podcasts and out of town conferences, and applied for a new job to name a few ways I stretched outside my comfort zone. What a year it’s been! As we creep towards the dawn of a new calendar year, I find myself pondering the theme of 2025. One of the words I am considering is “dream”. ____________________________ Years ago, when I was teaching grade three in an inner-city school, one precious little monkey asked, “Ms. Cleeve, did you always want to be a teacher?” “No. When I was your age, I wanted to sing and act on Broadway.” A look of shock and what can only be described as disappointment rolled across her face as she responded, “What the hell happened to you?” How old was I when I gave up that dream, deciding to pursue something less risky, more practical? (Maybe it was around the same time I realized that I couldn’t dance. Or act. Or sing really well.) As young children, our minds are so full of dreams that we struggle to limit the possibilities. The options bubble over like potion brewing in a cauldron. We want to grow up quickly, so we can become artists, and engineers, and ballerinas all at the same time. Our brains scream with places we want to travel—Africa, India, Asia... We envision the house we will live in, the gaggle of pets we will have, and the glorious freedoms we will enjoy as adults. At what age do our brains become so overwhelmed with the daily grind that we cease to imagine daring possibilities for ourselves? No adult I know still talks like this. When did we stop dreaming? ____________________________ My eighteen year old son and his girlfriend have found full time jobs. For the first time in their lives, they are subjecting themselves to the mundane routine of adulthood—wake up, commute, work, eat dinner, go to the gym. The lack of excitement has them questioning the purpose of life. “Is this all there is?” Has society’s demand to be productive extinguished their inclination to dream already? As I attempt to help them clarify their visions within the current murkiness, the conversations we’re having serve me as well. I'm encouraging them both to step away from the practical and think audaciously, to reach for goals which seem almost unattainable, to let fire and desire drive them forward. The questions I am posing are ones that I’m mulling over too. Where do you want to live? What adventures do you want to seek? What work feels exciting and fulfilling? Which people bring you joy? My children are growing older, quicker by the day it seems. It’s time for me to begin imagining the next phase of my life—one where I am the star of the show, no longer a supporting character. It’s time for me to start dreaming again. Where do I want to live? What adventures do I want to seek? What work feels exciting and fulfilling to me? Which people bring me joy? So, as Dec. 31st fades into the start of a new year, I will be figuratively dreaming about what is to come. And, literally dreaming… because who has the gumption to stay up until midnight these days?!
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October 2024
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