Belief, with a dash of Hope (for flavor)

I go back to a little scene that I saw on a run one day. Three kids were playing in a ditch (imagine that, kids playing in a ditch in South Louisiana) filled with water. Each kid took a turn going to the edge of the road, building up their courage, and trying to run as fast as they could and jump over the water-filled ditch. What’s so special about that, you ask? Well, before each of the ankle biters tried this daredevil feat, they screamed, “I believe I can fly!” And the funny thing is that I could tell that each of them genuinely believed if they just ran fast enough, and things fell just right, human flight was well within reach.
Why do I tell you this story? Because I want to know at what age did we have to trade in our superhero’s costume (mine was Batman) for a pair of khaki’s and a polo, and trade in our dreams of extraordinary for the plight of mediocrity? Why can’t we as adults dream the impossible dream? When was that fateful day that I screamed, “I believe I can fly!” and one of my friends/associates looked at me and replied, “Get off the crack, dude. No one can fly.” Or was it a self-realization that I need to give up the dream, as the disappointment of possible failure could be too much for me to bear? And once that first dream is shattered, what happens to the rest of our dreams? Do we suppress them in the backs of our minds, as the sting of failure is too fresh and too painful to relive. And then after a while, we give up and don’t have any more new dreams. We just accept the defeat, and slip into the ever-growing line of lost and timid souls who settle for mediocrity. And I’m not referring to the lucky, or gifted few that we always hear “realized their dream” or made it through repeated hardship. I’m just talking about enabling ourselves to go back to the playground, back to the field, back to the ditch, and stick to the convictions of our dreams. To chase something, anything, with the same passion and vigor that once dominated our young lives. To embrace the ideal that we, no matter what the odds or consequences we faced, with whatever gifts and talents we’ve been given, could do something extraordinary. To accept the knowledge that deep inside every person lies an extraordinary dream; a passion that wants to explode out into the world, and excommunicate any ideas of conformity or acceptance of mediocrity.
As I sit here, and think about the belief of those little kids, and seeing a good friend realize his dream of going to Ironman Hawaii, I think about hope. Hope is a powerful emotion, and is almost inseparable from belief. Maybe the worst case scenario is that you don’t realize your dream. Its bases loaded, 2 outs, game is tied, and you strike out. You go all in with a flush, and the house has 4 aces. You take your shot at extraordinary and miss. But what about the hope that you’ve given others through your fight? What about other people who you’ve met and interacted with throughout your years of dream chasing, whom you’ve inspired to chase their dream. Maybe it’s like a domino effect. Maybe that person you’ve inspired inspires 2 more people. And maybe, if it all goes on long enough, we’ll have a world of inspired people that go out and go for it, chase the impossible dream, believe again that they are capable of great and mighty things. And if we’re lucky, we’ll find ourselves back at the ditch, believing that we too can fly….

Thanks for reading.