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I was rereading my blog tonight and stumbled upon my When I was 10 post. In it, I pondered:
What happened to the wild imaginations we had when we were kids? As adults, we automatically and immediately put up road blocks to things that we think are “impossible.” But, are they really impossible or is it fear that’s stopping us from dreaming big, “ridiculous” dreams like we did when we were kids?
In the original post, I left the question unanswered.; something to ponder. But the truth? I think it’s fear holding us back. I know it’s certainly been holding me back. I’m so fearful that if I stop running, if I’m not always on the defensive, even for a second, the past will catch up to me. And that past was so painful that I can’t imagine reliving it. But the present? The one where I’m a coward? That one’s painful too.
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