Perhaps the best we can do for the next generations is to understand their dreams. They are not the same as our grown up dreams. OK, I am speaking for myself.
Then, if we can, facilitate the journey. Yes, the dream journey is very personal, but we can sense what can help or not. The Brexit situation is a total betrayal of the dreams of the British youth. They may never forget.
If I could, I would send a message to these youth. Don’t defer the dreams.
Here is a poem by Langston Hughes that always makes me think ,again and again.
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
No idea why, with age, my dreams increase. I am not talking night time. My fitbit tells me that all sort of things happen during the night. There are peaks and valleys. And dreams. But the daytime ones are unnoticed by the device.
Not deferring dreams. I don’t know if I could have a better wish for everybody in this 2019
PS. Daily Thoughts occasionally crosses these borders. I know. Weird