Dreams....

I've just finished reading a super ace book by Miranda Hart (the funny tall lady on TV). Its called 'Is it just me?' and provides many chuckles and mini snorty laughs, I liked it a lot.

It was the final chapter of said book, that has really got me thinking....(I've had quite a lot of time on my hands this week, being bed bound and all..) The chapter is entitled 'Dreams', and she encourages you to hold on to the dreams that you had when you were tiddly...

"I think its sad when people stop dreaming, or start losing hope. Because holding onto the bonkers dream might just turn out to be the most marvellous thing you ever did."  Hart, M. 'Is it just me'

As regular followers of my blog will know, I'm a big fan of all things HOPE orientated. Such a big fan in fact that I even had the word tattooed onto my body, (I think that qualifies me as a SUPER FAN actually...) Anywho, I liked what Ms Hart was chatting about, and it made me cast my mind back to the good old days when I did dream about what I was going to be when I grew up....

At the ripe old age of 4, I decided my calling in life was to be a nurse.

I had a great penguin book about nurses, and I rather liked their red caps and special hats made out of paper... However, this dream was squashed within a couple of years, as I realised the sight of blood made me feel a bit wonky, dizzy, a little bit sick...and now I might fall over, whoops.

By the age of 6, a new dream was emerging. I was going to be an actress.

I would have a red car, a Jack Russell dog, and I would live in a canal boat. Pretty sure the place of residence was inspired by the Rosie and Jim programme, but I can't be too sure...

Aged 7, the first part of my dream was beginning to bear fruits. I got the lead in the school play. Moi! It was 'A Christmas Carol' and I was to be Ebenezer Scrooge. Ignoring the fact that I was playing a man, I put my heart and soul into that grumpy chops face. And I think I did it pretty well.

However, my dreams of being an actress gradually disintegrated. I continued to audition for school plays, I even joined a stage school at the weekend. But it got me nowhere. The lowest point was being cast as the duck in the 'Wind in the Willows'. Oh the shame. I would of swopped my left arm to be Ratty. 

 I wasn't too disheartened though, oh no, I would still be on the stage, because, I could DANCE (and I didn't have to open my mouth for that..!)

I have always danced, from the age of 2 I was put into ballet shoes..I pointed, tapped, jazzed and hip hopped my way through life..and its only in the last three or four years that I've stopped. Why? Lack of confidence I guess. I realised I wasn't any good. Or not good enough.

I do miss it. I miss the adrenaline rush of going out on stage, of performing. I miss the feeling of not thinking about anything else but dancing. I miss the energy, the buzz.

..Hmm. This was supposed to be an uplifting blog, but its kind of making me a bit miserable now.

Let me pause a moment and insert a poem that Ms Hart quotes in her book. Its by Langston Hughes,

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow.

So I may not be a nurse, actress or dancer. But I have had a dog, who provided me with much fun and cuddles (RIP Bella). I might not have a red car, but that's mainly because I cant drive... and I'm saving the planet by reducing my carbon footprint....

Oh and here's another little secret dream that I had when I was a munchkin...I always quite fancied being a writer....I often felt like a I had a few novels buried deep in the caverns of my odd little brain . And here I am, writing. OK, its not actually a book, or a bestseller, but I'm writing, you're reading. Hurrah.

xxx