The birth of a dream is a beautiful thing.
The first time you meet that special someone and your eyes meet. The first time you are brave enough to consider what it would be like to own your own business. The first time you sit down to begin writing a book.
The dream is new and fresh and exhilarating. Adrenaline is rushing. Confidence is soaring.
But no dream stays a baby. That soft, cuddly, adorable infant-dream you have will turn into a gangly, acne-faced teenager-dream. And that’s only the beginning. It will continue to morph into something almost entirely unrecognizable.
The business deal falls through. The novel goes neglected due to time restraints. The special someone doesn’t return your affection. Your dream becomes a nightmare.
You once ran through grassy fields bathed in warm sunshine, intoxicated by the beauty of your dream.
Now the skies are dark, the rain is pouring, and you sit drenched. Raindrops mingle with your tears, and you wonder if your dream ever existed.
But this is all just a necessary process of life. Because every dream has to die. Every Isaac has to offered on the altar.
And what seems like the end of our dream is actually only a temporary stage every dream must go through. Your dream is not dying; it is maturing.
And what we often fail to realize is that the worst possible thing that could happen to our dream…is the best possible thing that could happen to our dream.
Why? Because when the dream is taken away, it reveals how passionate about it we really are. When the dream is taken away, it reveals whether we can live without it or not. And the fight for that dream is part of what makes it so special. (This is what I call “The Pickle Principle”)
So don’t give up when the rain is falling. The sun will shine again. And don’t give up when your dream seems dead. After all, every dream has to die.
This may not be the end. It may be just the beginning.
Have you experienced the death of a dream? What did you learn? You can comment here.