The circus, under the big top, three rings of adventure...I gazed upward in awe, enthralled by the young woman sailing above me on the largest swingset I had ever seen. I wanted to be her. I was ten.
Time stopped for me during that trapeze act. She performed stunts and acrobatics with ease and grace. Her body flew forward and back, accelerating, until she flung herself into the air, reaching toward her partner. I wanted that freedom.
When people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, most of my answers were typical--school teacher, nurse, model--but for a few years I told them a trapeze artist. That fixation usually turned a few adults' heads.
I still love high thrill adventure (see this previous post: She Flies Through the Air ). I'll never fly on the trapeze, and I'm OK with that. I found other dreams to pursue.
The one dream I never gave up on was to be a writer. I work on this every week. It will happen. I believe it. I refuse to accept anything different. I might not get rich doing it (few authors live on their writing income alone), but it's not about the money. It's about writing because I must.
I'm sure the trapeze artist of my childhood felt a similar passion for sailing through the air. Let's face it, you don't fling yourself thirty feet above the ground because it pays the bills. You do it because you must.
Many of our dreams fade as we grow. Others stay with us. What are yours? Any surprises out there?