Dream On

Dreams come in different colors. Passionate ones remind me of fiery-red. Bold carries with it a hint of chocolate brown. Scary is just plain black. They can wake you in the middle of the night unexpectedly, fear and excitement wrestling together like unsupervised ten-year-olds. I don't mean the terrifying dreams where your feet pedal like the Roadrunner's. Or the wistful ones you chew on while waiting for the stop light to turn green. No, this kind inches up from the soul, glimpses of possibility within reach, yet seemingly unattainable. Recently, I noticed a picture on a billboard. A large photograph of Randy Pausch, the author of The Last Lecture. A similar sign caught my eye, this one showed Susan Boyle, the singer who gave the world goosebumps when she belted her tune on the British Reality TV show. Both of these billboards delivered a thought provoking message. Live your dream. When my sight pinned on the picture of Randy Pausch, I thought to myself, his dream is getting bigger, his life touching others even after his death. About a month ago, with disappointment dripping off my tongue, I mumbled to my sister something about my unpublished manuscript collecting dust in a cabinet. She said offhandedly, "Find another dream." I shot her a sideways glance, saying to myself, but that was my dream! Then I got to thinking. What if dreams snowballed, layering on top of one another, until collectively, with each risk and failure taken, your dreams multiply like a constellation of stars. Randy Pausch said in his book, "Experience is what you get when you didn't get what you wanted." Would I recognize a new dream? Is it hiding under the covers, shivering from neglect, begging to be discovered? Or is it already working itself out, a tapestry of mini-dreams pieced together, which just might reveal themselves as a billboard some day. Randy Pausch also wrote, "It's important to have specific dreams. Dream Big. Dream without fear." I would like to have met him. Some dreams are contagious.