Dare to dream big... I don't know when it all began. Perhaps in my childhood. It was apparent. My independence. I was never a follower. I loved to talk. I would talk my way out of things. My imagination endless. My possessions priceless. My joy was endless. My laugh infectious. I dreamed of being a teacher. A teacher of things. A helper. An intellectual. My ambitions high. Reachable. Work hard, and see the fruits of your labor. But today...looking at the ground. Looking for the smallest green to sprout out of the ground. Proof of my labors. A tear drop. Waiting. Misery. Talking to myself. Hoping for sprout. Solitude. Have I placed my priorities in the wrong pursuits? Have I planted the wrong seed. Not bad seed. Wrong seed for my season. I've always claimed I'm a dreamer. Is the answer simpler than I allow myself to believe. Change my perspective. A young child. A young woman. A disillusioned adult. Wake up. It's not a dream. It's my world. My reality. I control it.