Wandering through life as a dreamer has its advantages. Nothing has to make sense. But when things really don’t make sense, on any level, the dream becomes fantastic. Am I a fool for adventuring through fantasies while everyone I know is busy scurrying to (re)build a “normal” life? What is a normal life?
The 40-hour-a-week grind isn’t it. I certainly never wanted to settle into a cube and pinch my pennies toward retirement. I’m inspired to see young people, en masse, rejecting such norms and searching for more satisfying and viable ways to live here. Earth-friendly and conscious, they come pre-programmed to buck the systems, to uproot our antiquated ways and to build a model that works for everyone.
In my fantasy, this model acknowledges our individuality and our oneness. It’s Love-based and creative. That’s as far as I get, because the rest requires a solid effort from every single individual to drop the ‘us v. them’ mentality thriving inside our own bodies.
Meanwhile, I tell myself, an achievable goal might be a good idea. Let me dream on it.
