I've always thought fantasies were supposed to remain in the realm of dreams, not what we call attainable dreams, but more like real dreams that can never come true, like when I fantasize about being a ballet dancer. Fun, but not likely.
My favorite fantasy is the one in which I live while on eternal vacation. No schedules, or "to do" lists, no obligations, no routines. I am still if I want to and lay on the beach or sit and read near the relaxing pool, or I go out and explore the newness and excitement of unknown territories while learning about the uniqueness of a different culture. In my fantasy, the book "Eat, Pray, Love" is written about me but with a different title - " I Pray I love what I Eat" - because exploring the delicious flavors, textures and combinations of exotic foods while I'm traveling is my daily pastime.
Though traveling eternally with no worries seems quite unrealistic, I had thought retirement would materialize at least a few kernels of my whimsical desires - a cruise here and there, a trip to Europe, excursions within the U.S. to discover the diverse beauty of the states. But no. Somehow, destiny had a different idea and, based on my current life circumstances, it seems predictable that no parts of this fantasy will ever be transferred to the field of dreams, to the field of possibilities.
The other day I read a little blurb about a woman in Wales, who got a writing contract for her trilogy novels. I'm so happy for her. But, what was remarkable about this story is not that she landed a contract, but that she is 82 years old. What could be a better reminder of how important it is to live 'til we die, to not allow age to be a deterrent to our dreams, to tenaciously carry on and work to achieve our goals?
Right now there are few trips in my life, no vacations or exotic meals (except those my husband whips up in our own humble kitchen). To my discredit, being a person who believes in having an uplifted Spirit, I often fall into the darkness of despair and worry that my retirement years may just gradually slip into those years of infirmity and incapacity that so often precede death; the years of waiting to be transferred myself from this life, which many describe as a dream, to the ultimate fantasy of unknown mystery.
Still, the lady in Wales, kindles a tiny spark of hope within me. Though I'm definitely getting older, I still have much life in me and youthfully my thoughts go to unaccomplished dreams, to exhilarating fantasies with potential to continue fulfilling my life, moment by moment. Who knows what I can accomplish by the time I'm 82?
Sorry. Maybe I'm showing more signs of aging than I think by being temporarily obsessed with end of life issues. I not having a good day. Perhaps, it's a good thing that I get my fantasies and dreams mixed up. That way, I continue to believe what I've frequently said that, "All is possible".