"We are here to laugh at the odds
and live so well
that death trembles to take us."
- Charles Bukowski
I was looking at my bucket list today, adding to it. I'm always adding to it. And I realized that I am a dreamer. I don't think there's a realistic bone in my body. I dream and dream and dream.
I want to write a book. I want to publish a novel. A best-seller. It would be fiction because that's all I like to write. I like pretending to be different people in different places at different times. I like imagining adventures. I like falling in love with my characters. I'll be a modern-day Jane Austen. I'll be bigger than John Greene.
I want to backpack across Europe. I want to explore Ireland, experience the cultures of England, hike through France, befriend people in Austria. If I were ever to run away, look for me in Europe. I'll be sitting at a cafe, writing my book.
I want to ride on the back of a motorcycle. I want to go skydiving. I want to go white water rafting. I want to go rock climbing. I want to have so many adrenaline rushes that my heart never slows down.
I want to learn everything. I want to learn how to make pottery. I want to learn to speak French fluently. I want to learn how to knit. I want to learn how to make the perfect green smoothie. I want to learn how to sew without breaking the sewing machine (sorry, Mom). I want to learn how to become a really great photographer.
I want to get married. To some, this is a realistic goal. To me, this is a dream. I truly believe in soul mates. And my soul is crazy. So it's hard for me to believe that there is another soul as crazy and wild as mine.
I know that most of my dreams are pretty far out there. I doubt I'll ever have the resources needed to publish a book. And I don't have thousands of dollars and months to spend hiking my way through Mount Blanc. And I may never have the opportunity to go white water rafting. And I'll never have enough time to master a million new hobbies. And who knows if my soul will ever find a match?
So what will happen if my dreams never come true?
I'll cry. I'll grieve the memories that I'll never have and the knowledge that I'll never learn. I'll miss the places I've never been to and the people I'll never meet.
But what if, against all odds, my dreams do come true?
What if my novel gets published and future writers are inspired by it? What if people from all around the world travel to art museums just to see the Jessica Lee collection? What if my Instagram is filled with pictures of me skydiving or rappelling down a mountain? What if I spend a year of my life, traveling through Europe and learning how to make the perfect cup of coffee? What if I meet a man who is willing to keep up with my wild soul?
I would rather have dreams that never come true, than never dream at all.
I want to live well. And you can't live well, unless you dream well.