The Improbable Dream

I didn’t win the lottery again today. Subsequently, I have not made any down-payments on that private island I’ve had my eye on for a while. The luxury yacht remains at the Monaco dealership. I’ve lost the phone number of that mind-numbingly spectacular glamour model and artist from Chicago. That gold bullion remains, sadly, alone and effectively not mine, unattained, in some bank vault deep beneath a mountain in Switzerland. My Post-doctoral Thesis-by-invitation to be presented at Stanford University on “Coping with the manifold psychological burdens of extensive personal wealth and power” remains, similarly, incomplete while my favourite cherry-red Corvette Stingray rests in the securely locked double garage of someone else’s home, in some city in a country half a world away.

It can be simultaneously entertaining and cathartic to dream improbable dreams. Perhaps we may learn to see more clearly the true value of what we do have when we compare it with that negation and impossibility represented by what we never will possess. Would the attainment of the Dream in the end not actually be what we thought it was going to be ? Probably, and this distance and difference between expectation and reality is the energy which drives as many of our personal victories and achievements as our defeats.

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