There was a touch of sadness that I couldn't whisk away for the whole evening. So I have to talk about this first thing in the morning.
Yesterday, while chatting with my sister's son about another possibility for his future, he said he was too old for that path. He is going to be 36 years old this year, holding three jobs and trying to make as much money as he can. It's great on one level.
I felt sad over the whole situation for many reasons. First, I sense the loss of his dream and ambition that he once held and so passionately talked about, that they represent the aspirations we all once had in our youth. This ambition of youth often holds symbolic meaning of hope and a sense of possibility, and it’s sad to see him letting it go.
Second, I see the pressure of daily practicality that forces us to compromise what we once dreamed of and reconciling it in real life. Do we have to make this shift from idealism to realism and allow this pursuit of worldly wealth to overshadow other pursuits? Can we prevent the loss of some part of us, perhaps our true self, in the process of pursuing financial success?
Third, I can also see the force of conventional expectations here, the notion that by a certain age, your path in life should be this or that. But it is too restrictive to allow society to define where we should be at a certain age. Perhaps opportunities shrink with age. Still, it sounds too final to feel old and to stop pursuing his dreams.
Ideally, dreams and ambitions are not confined by age and people at all age deserve to have their own aspirations. Perhaps the sadness I felt was not just for him, but for all of us, and his words suggest that our dreams have an expiration date. Perhaps the belief that dreams never die is more a belief than anything else.