“Where will you be 15 years from now?”
Dream a little dream for me
“Where will you be 15 years from now?”
It was in my attic just last week that I encountered that very question for the 2nd time in my life.
Don’t worry. I’m not hearing voices and my attic isn’t haunted by some introspective, therapeutic ghost (unfortunately, because that would be awesome).
Doing my best to channel Marie Kondo, I poured over bin after bin of childhood memorabilia purging my crap-tastic artwork (except for the gem at the top - yup, that’s a Lauren original), math worksheets, and book reports in my serial killer handwriting. Only the real juicy stuff was spared the trash can. It was in this process that I stumbled across my 5th grade yearbook in which all of us kiddos were asked, “Where will you be 15 years from now?”
My eleven year old self confidently answered: I wanted to be a large animal vet or famous horse trainer.
Most of the boys wanted to be a player on some national sports team, with one exception - the boy who wanted to be a dentist- and most mentioned owning some sort of super car. The girls were more varied. One wanted to capture life on Mars, another wanted to graduate from Yale. Almost all of us wanted something to care for - kids, dogs, and/or cats.
This got me thinking: When did we stop sharing big, wild, totally out-of-this-world dreams as unabashedly as these 11 year olds?
Us kids didn’t just say our dreams in hushed tones to one another on the playground. We SHOUTED them at each other, and told anyone who would listen. We DOCUMENTED them for crying out loud. Preserving them in that yearbook for the whole world to read. Well, maybe not for the WHOLE world, but at least for our folks to read and then store in the attic (cough cough) for “safe keeping.”
Forget 15 years from now. Do you even ask yourself, “what do I want?” I know I don’t. Not nearly as often as I should anyway.
Shit, the only time I consistently ask myself that question is when I’m desperately trying to make up my mind as the waiter stands table-side and I whip out the classic “I’ll go last. I just need one more minute.” Ha. Lies.
In light of this new year, I say go for it. Ask yourself “what do I want?” and unabashedly answer the question.
We hear it over and over and over again. You only get one life. So true, so harsh. Like when the dentist says you HAVE TO floss or your teeth will rot out of your mouth. So true, so harsh. (Hey, maybe I should look up my former classmate who wanted to be a dentist and see if he’ll let me off the hook with the flossing...)
You have dreams. Maybe even a lot of them. Big, small, wild, ordinary.
Do you know what your dreams are?
Forget about sharing them with the world, what about sharing them with yourself? It’s impossible to go after something if you don’t know what that something is.
Share them like an 11 year old who dreams of playing for the Bruins. Or going to Mars. Or being a large animal vet. Share them without shame. Without reserve. As a result of sharing these, 15 years from now you might just be standing in the middle of one of those dreams.
2024 will be an incredible year. Dream and dream and dream.
And then go for it.
Meme of the Week:
Book of the Week:
Die with Zero: Getting All You Can from Your Money and Your Life by Bill Perkins
People are more afraid of running out of money than wasting their life, and that’s got to switch. Your biggest fear ought to be wasting your life and time, not Am I going to have x number of dollars when I’m 80?