Dream . . . before the day is through

Sometimes I wonder if we aim high enough. There is that ambiguous place where we tell ourselves that we are happy with what we have achieved and what we do in life . . . that comes from the oh-so-trendy notion that we should be kind to ourselves and recognize our achievements.
That works to a point. Having lunch recently with a friend, we commiserated about the importance of young people's quest to find something they like to do.
We argued that it is unrealistic to like everything about what you do? And whatever happened to achieving something important? Striving for what seems impossible? Taking a risk? Fulfilling responsibilities? I can hear the groaning now and in truth, found it difficult to write those words, as if by the mere consideration of something more, I am condemning all that is. That should not be the case.
At a party this past weekend, guests were challenged to talk to strangers by moving to a new table between meal courses. Talking to people socially is often a challenge for me. It's too much like the work I do: finding out everything there is to know about something or someone and then re-circulating it in print.
But what I came away with was a reminder of the diversity of what people are up to. And I am left wondering a few things: is our community, our education system and our families showing these possibilities to young people? And I wonder if our adult quest for security and consumables has closed the door to what could be different.
I read somewhere a long time ago that we are no longer children when we realize that things could have been different. I would take that one step further and say that as grown-ups, we have to remind ourselves that we are the captains of our own voyages.
I think we are only beginning to understand how our own vitality has been sapped by watching the surreal antics of others: dancing with the stars, becoming Canadian idols, trying to answer enough questions or identifying song lyrics to get rich.
We grimace our way through the unreasonable hoarding which has brought other people's lives to a grinding halt and watch miraculous home renovations take place in less than 30 minutes.
If the purpose of this and other similar programming is to inspire, I am missing it.
In fact, I am in that age group that feels I may have missed a lot of things.
I have secretly (okay, it's not secret any more) have always wanted to be The Great Imposter and have the chance to be many things but never become bored.
At social gatherings, one's job is often the first topic of conversation and defines who you are for the duration. While at the party I mentioned earlier, I thought fleetingly of the looks I would get if I told people I was an agent provocateur, or a private investigator or that I was the executive director of the Mwaluganje Elephant Sanctuary in Kenya. Then again, as the leading authority on albatross migratory patterns, I could have spoken about my upcoming book on the subject. Or I could have regaled people about my recent purchase of Google's North American servers.
Being who I am, of course, I didn't do that. I talked about what I do at this newspaper and the struggles facing the print medium everywhere. Bemoaning the loss of their own community newspapers, guests told me to keep up the work that I do.
Listening, writing, managing: that's what I do and who I am.
From time to time, we all think of what we could do in worlds far away from here. Sometimes people make a big move. Sometimes they don't, but even if they don't, it is important for all of us to think about everything that lies outside the every-day life in our small towns.
Kudos to people who travel, think, work, solve, ask, talk and laugh together.
Let them inspire you.