Dream Big

When my grandpa was alive, I would always say that I would make the trip to Kansas to visit him, but something would always come up. Either I couldn’t get the time off of work or I didn’t have any money or what ever dumb excuse… the airport is like an hour drive away from his house and traveling would be hard cause I was too young to rent a car. There was always an excuse because I thought there would be a tomorrow to go out there at a later date. Then all of the sudden there was no tomorrow. He passed away very suddenly and there was no more reason to make the trip, my excuses were dried up and my tomorrows to visit were yesterdays of unfulfilled promises. And I felt like the worst granddaughter ever.
When I was younger I always wanted to see New York City then 9/11 happened and there’s a chunk missing that will never be seen again. I wanted to go to New Orleans forever, then Katrina hit. Beautiful cities that will never be the same and the previous experiences I wanted can never be attained like that again… not that these cities are ruined forever by any means… just that they don’t have the innocence they once possessed.
Now in my ripe old age I travel tons. This year I’ve seen Philadelphia for the first time, I’ve been to New York for the 3rd time, I leave for LA next week for the 2nd time and in January I’m going with a bunch of friends to New Orleans for the first time. I’ve decided that lack of money was a really dumb reason not to travel, really it’s not all that expensive and if you cut out some luxuries like daily coffee and fast food, it becomes more affordable. And time is negotiable, if you don’t take off from work you will drive yourself crazy.
But probably the most painful delay I’ve had in my life is my writing. Back in high school I wanted to be a writer, but I believed a teacher who said I was too creative to be any good at AP English. In college I rediscovered my love for the written word and flourished, but I let myself get caught up in “The Real World” and writing became a hobby then became a past dream. If I could get back those 5 years that I didn’t pick up my pen, that’s 5 years that I could’ve written my 1st novel instead of working on it now. Hell I could be done with my 3rd novel by now and have been published, yet I gave into that stupid voice that said be safe and content with the little you have and don’t lose yourself in your dreams.
Lose yourself in your dreams. Dream big. If this is our chance, then grab hold of it with both hands and hold on tightly. We may not know how many tomorrows we have for our dreams but we do know they are numbered.

By Konnie Collins