Have you ever just been so enamored with a place that your eyes light up like saucers and your heart feels like it will explode with goodness? That’s how I feel about New York City. Every time I cross over the bridge into Manhattan, my heart starts beating wildly in my chest. It’s a physical reaction to the ethereal feeling of wonder. For three short, beautiful weeks I get to live smack dab in the middle of Greenwich Village and take courses on writing. It feels like a dream, honestly, something that I never would have imagined for myself in my wildest dreams.
But maybe that’s because I’m just now learning how to dream again. I’m learning that it’s important to stop limiting myself by my feelings of self-doubt or pessimism masked as realism. I’m learning that to seek beauty is a decent thing, almost required by anyone who wants to make a bit of difference in the creative world.
Sure, it’s intimidating to enter an uncertain field with uncertain dreams and idealistic plans. It’s scary to want to dream big dreams and want to explore outside the perimeters of my comfort zone. But I’m learning that it’s possible. And it feels surreal to dream for myself. To make plans that have no certainties. To explore the breadth of my abilities.
But I guess what I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t limit yourself. It’s not an easy way to live. It’s miserable and feels inauthentic. You are never too old or young to dream, and don’t let anyone take that away from you. Hold tightly to what you love. Clutch your dreams to your chest and never let go.