What direction will your dreams take you? Whatever your dreams, it seems that you never know where they will take you. You might have a plan, but your dreams have one too, I’ve discovered. One thing leads to another and another path shows you the way.
My dreams have all led me to different and wonderful places. Italy was the place I dreamed of living, and I did it. I had a wonderful life in Florence, Italy full of art, architecture, a new and warm culture, new friends, old friends who visited me, and very full and rich life.
I dreamed of finding love and I met my husband in Italy. We met on Piazza degli Uffizi one Spring evening, about this time of year. We had both come to listen to music.
My husband is Moroccan and now I am living the dream by the sea in Tangier. We celebrated our third wedding anniversary on Sunday.
I dreamed of learning another language and I am fluent in Italian and now learning French and Darija (Moroccan Arabic) in my new home.
Being a writer has always been a dream of mine. I am the author of this blog as well as my Italian one, An American in Italy. I even wrote a book titled The Life I Imagined.
I had a successful career that helped me make my dreams come true, but the real thing that has to happen to make dreams come true is daring to dream.
I dream of traveling the world. Today I am in Istanbul celebrating my birthday and dreaming up other things to do in the future.
Dreams can be big and scary and sometimes you must face insurmountable obstacles to make them come true. It’s not always easy and it usually brings some pain to others who don’t understand or don’t support your dreams. Don’t let that stop you. Start by taking one step. Then take another and another. You can make yours happen.
Consider the words of this poem carefully and then dream big! See you next week when I get back from Turkey!
The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, ‘Yes.’
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.