It could be the effect of altitude, or perhaps boredom during another flight (the 4th one in 3 days) but a question jumps into my mind today and refuses to go away … when (and how) do we learn to dream?
I guess it is like walking our first few steps. You stand one day up, looking around the room, ignoring the plethora of grown-up faces mainly distracted by some sort of boring, adult-like conversation and, fearless, you throw yourself forward into the unknown. And, just by chance, when your mind realises that nothing else can possibly stand between you and the hard and fast approaching floor, one of your feet happens to be there to hold you up. It is like magic!
You look down, at your feet, and there it is … your tiny foot at the end of your short and shaky leg holding you upright. It must feel like a great success. Such an achievement!
Your body struggles for balance, your head looks down and your eyes try to focus in the by now spinning tiles all around you. The sense of danger grows in you as the awareness of what is happening invades your senses. But before you can stop it, your second leg leaps forward, sending your body in an uncertain move forward.
By now faces all around you have changed, distorted by a sense of wonderment, of incredibility. And once more, to your own disbelief, your leg was there to hold you up!
After then it is all confusion. Someone comes and picks you up. A lot of noise around you and people taking pictures and filming you as if they have never seen such a thing. Don’t you all walk all day long yourselves? – your mind shouts at them. But at the same time your heart enjoys the attention, that Hollywood-like feeling of being a celebrity in your own house … (to be continued)
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