Dream Big

Complete this sentence:

In ten years, I want to be _____________________.

Did you dream big?

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Last night, at a family party, my sister-in-law, cousins and brothers discussed dreams and aspirations. All in their 20’s, they wrestled with unknown futures.

“I want to do PR, cosmetology, personal training and event planning,” my 20-year old cousin lamented. “Isn’t there anything that lets you do all that?” She’s trying to pick a major, and is majorly stressed about narrowing the possibilities.

“I have no idea what I want to do,” my 26-year-old sister-in-law sighed. She has a fashion merchandising degree, but yearns to do something more. Trouble is, she doesn’t know exactly what that might be.

My 22-year-old brother joined the club, “I’m in film school, but I don’t know what to focus on. Part of me still wants to do animation.”

As I started reflecting on my career aspirations, they interrupted me. “You’ll never have this problem,” they said, “you always know what you want.” We laughed and I insisted I could relate. After all, I noted, there’s still so much I want to do with my life. But ultimately they excluded me from the club; I can articulate my goals.

Or can I? At 28, do I know what I want to be in 10 years?

Ten years ago, at 18, my answer was something like this: “I want to be a successful communications professional.” (I was still picking a major.) Four years later, during my senior year of college, my answer had evolved to “I want to own my own PR firm by the time I’m 30.”

But today, when I ask myself that question, my internal answer comes back a little differently than in years past: “In ten years, I want to be happy, loved, adventurous and healthy.”

When did my dreaming become so vague? What does it signify? Is this a problem?

I pushed myself to do a little more thinking. Truthfully, I haven’t thought about 10-year-goals in some time. My goals lately have been much more short-term: save money, buy a house, become a vice-president at my firm, get married. That’s probably the five-year plan. But what happens after that?

(Crickets chirp.)

Apparently my ten-year-goals are a little non-existent. Or, just a little ambiguous… as in, “be happy, loved, adventurous and healthy.”

So tonight, I’m going to dedicate a bit of time to envisioning myself at 38. After some thought, here’s what I see.

I am… a mom. A career woman. A published author. A homeowner. An investor. A runner. A traveler. A mentor to the underprivileged.

Wow, it actually feels kind of scary to put it down in writing. What if I fail? That’s a lot to do in ten years.

I wonder if we become more afraid of failure as we age. At 13, I was unafraid to write that I’d be a physical therapist or a marine biologist by 23. (And clearly neither of those paths worked out.) At my college graduation party I didn’t flinch to tell people my plan to own a PR firm by age 30 (yet another one that didn’t work out). And frankly, I’ve never been one to hold back my financial goals on this Web site (which for now seem to be working just fine).

But suddenly I’m scared to state the goals above. Maybe they feel more real. (They certainly don’t seem out of the realm of possibility.) And yet, from this vantage point, I now know how much determination they require. How much focus. How much energy. Do I have it in me to keep going once I reach a good position within my company, have my own place and am enjoying life? At what point do I kick back, relax and enjoy who I’ve become?

I have no answer for that question. But I do know that once I’ve set things right for myself, I believe I have more to accomplish in this world. Though I’ve certainly been very focused on building a life for myself throughout my 20’s, I never intended to stop there. So it would be a betrayal to myself to stop dreaming now, to stop setting big goals, to stop pushing for the next level. Ultimately, my life has never been about creating what’s best for me. I hope that I can create a great life for children of my own in the future, and that I can give back to the communities and people that gave so much to get me where I am today.

So there, you see. I do have long-term goals for the future (phew!), they were just a little buried, bogged down by the short-term craziness. Maybe when we’re younger, we aren’t less afraid – we’re just more practiced at dreaming, at imagining the possibilities for the future. Turns out I just needed a reminder to keep dreaming big.