Where Do Our Childhood Dreams Go?

When we grow up where do our dreams go? I had a raft of them when I was a schoolgirl. Truth be told I still have many but they seem to have been silenced in my mind by new and louder housemates like responsibility, career and parenting.

I was around 12 years old when we had a motivational speaker come to our primary school to urge us to follow our dreams. I remember this experience because after a Tony Robins-esque intense day of high inspiration we were asked to write ourselves a letter one year into the future. When I received mine 12 months later at a new boarding school in Toowoomba I was inspired but also deflated. My goal felt so far away, so intangible, so otherworldly. I already felt disappointed in myself for deciding not to go after it because it wasn’t “serious” enough, not the responsible thing to do with my life. Following it blindly would have meant quitting school and that didn’t feel safe. I was scared. I was becoming a grown up.

But the funny thing about our truest goals and dreams is they are flames that never die. Even after career achievements, relationship unions, becoming a parent, the highs and lows of life - the embers stubbornly stay alight waiting to be stoked.

I’ve started to think if we don’t try to leap for our dreams by incremental steps (that could be a guitar lesson once a fortnight or starting small with a jog around the block) we can wind up full of resentment towards those around us. I have, but realise now it was so wrong. Chasing our goals is no one else’s responsibility but our own. And if we don’t pause to turn inward and ask ourselves what we truly want, how can we look our children in the eyes and honestly mean it when we say ‘follow your dreams’?

The good news is I have witnessed first hand anyone can start on the journey towards achieving their goals at any age. My Granny, who emigrated here aged 95 and turns 100 this month, has shown me this time and time again.