3 Symptoms of Killing Our Dreams

Most of you have probably already read the book, The Alchemist or The Pilgrimage or another book by Paulo Coelho.  If you haven't, put reading one of his books on your list of to-dos now.

I first read The Alchemist (and The Pilgrimage) my senior year of college.  It was then that a small seed was sown; a seed that has since flourished; truth that we all have gifts and personal callings that we should be living toward and for, in this life.  Don't get me wrong, I knew of talents, gifts and callings before I read the work of Coelho, but it was when I read The Alchemist that the pieces came together.  Although, my own personal calling has been buried a time or two or three, and has been placed on the back burner recently, the wisdom of Paulo Coelho continues to press deep--especially since I've liked his Facebook page and receive almost daily nuggets of wisdom from his enormous bank of life lessons. 

Like Paulo Coelho on Facebook and be inspired.

Yesterday, Coelho posted on Facebook his blog post,

'3 Symptoms of Killing Our Dreams,' and once again, I'm pondering over my calling, the excuses and my priorities.  I'd say they're each worth thinking about, and with the New Year around the corner, the timing feels especially appropriate.

3 Symtoms of Killing Our Dreams

Paulo Coelho

The first symptom of the process of our killing our dreams is the lack of time. The busiest people I have known in my life always have time enough to do everything. Those who do nothing are always tired and pay no attention to the little amount of work they are required to do. They complain constantly that the day is too short. The truth is, they are afraid to fight the Good Fight.

The second symptom of the death of our dreams lies in our certainties. Because we don’t want to see life as a grand adventure, we begin to think of ourselves as wise and fair and correct in asking so little of life. We look beyond the walls of our day-to-day existence, and we hear the sound of lances breaking, we smell the dust and the sweat, and we see the great defeats and the fire in the eyes of the warriors. But we never see the delight, the immense delight in the hearts of those who are engaged in the battle. For them, neither victory nor defeat is important; what’s important is only that they are fighting the Good Fight.

And, finally, the third symptom of the passing of our dreams is peace. Life becomes a Sunday afternoon; we ask for nothing grand, and we cease to demand anything more than we are willing to give. In that state, we think of ourselves as being mature; we put aside the fantasies of our youth, and we seek personal and professional achievement. We are surprised when people our age say that they still want this or that out of life. But really, deep in our hearts, we know that what has happened is that we have renounced the battle for our dreams – we have refused to fight the Good Fight.

When we renounce our dreams and find peace, we go through a short period of tranquility. But the dead dreams begin to rot within us and to infect our entire being.

We become cruel to those around us, and then we begin to direct this cruelty against ourselves. That’s when illnesses and psychoses arise. What we sought to avoid in combat – disappointment and defeat – come upon us because of our cowardice.

And one day, the dead, spoiled dreams make it difficult to breathe, and we actually seek death. It’s death that frees us from our certainties, from our work, and from that terrible peace of our Sunday afternoons
in The pilgrimage

What's your dream?
And are you seeking your dream?
Just curious.

One of my dreams is to be published one day,
and with the effort I've been giving it,
I'm a long ways off.

xx

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