Well, my mind is reeling with thoughts about everything I have to do to get ready for Ireland. It still doesn't feel real, and I think that when I actually step off the plane in Dublin I might die of shock. I emailed an old professor of mine who I've known for over six years to tell her the news of my trip; she responded: "That is wonderful news. In fact, a dream come true, right?"
It was funny, because though this is completely true, I'd never really thought of it like that. I think we're all brought up thinking that a "dream come true" is something that will never really happen. Dreams do not come true. But maybe we all just need to believe in our dreams a little bit more. I dreamed of Ireland for five years, and of course there were times that even as I was telling people that I was going to Ireland I didn't believe it. Why is it so hard to believe in our dreams?
I met a woman yesterday who told me that she'd always wanted to be an actress, but she assumed that she'd never make it and went to school for education. She only recently decided that she may as well try to achieve her dreams before she jumped to her backup career, and started auditioning. Even my own sister, Tess... when she sings, her voice gives you chills. She sang her whole life, from chorus classes in elementary school all the way to the lead in Grease in high school. After high school though, she decided that no one ever makes it as a singer, and now she, too, is going to school for education. I haven't heard her sing in two years, except in the car. This breaks my heart.
Why is it that we skip to Plan B before we even take a shot at Plan A? Because we live in a world that tells us that going after our dreams is a frivolous notion for idealists and, well... dreamers. Well, guilty as charged. I am a dreamer. I dreamed of Ireland, and now I'm going. Now my dream is becoming a writer. It might kill me, but I'll do it.
I encourage the world to dream. How could it hurt?
Go ahead. Do it.
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