The first symptom of the
process of our killing our
dreams is the lack of time.
The busiest people I have
known in my life always have
time enough to do
everything. Those who do
nothing are always tired and
pay no attention to the little
amount of work they are
required to do. They
complain constantly that the
day is too short. The truth is,
they are afraid to fight the
Good Fight.
The second symptom of
the death of our dreams lies
in our certainties. Because we
don ’t want to see life as a
grand adventure, we begin to
think of ourselves as wise
and fair and correct in asking
so little of life. We look
beyond the walls of our day-
to-day existence, and we
hear the sound of lances
breaking, we smell the dust
and the sweat, and we see
the great defeats and the fire
in the eyes of the warriors.
But we never see the delight,
the immense delight in the
hearts of those who are
engaged in the battle. For
them, neither victory nor
defeat is important; what’s
important is only that they
are fighting the Good Fight.
And, finally, the third
symptom of the passing of
our dreams is peace. Life
becomes a Sunday
afternoon; we ask for
nothing grand, and we cease
to demand anything more
than we are willing to give. In
that state, we think of
ourselves as being mature;
we put aside the fantasies of
our youth, and we seek
personal and professional
achievement. We are
surprised when people our
age say that they still want
this or that out of life. But
really, deep in our hearts, we
know that what has
happened is that we have
renounced the battle for our
dreams – we have refused to
fight the Good Fight.
When we renounce our
dreams and find peace, we
go through a short period of
tranquility. But the dead
dreams begin to rot within us
and to infect our entire
being.
We become cruel to those
around us, and then we
begin to direct this cruelty
against ourselves. That’s
when illnesses and psychoses
arise. What we sought to
avoid in combat –
disappointment and defeat –
come upon us because of
our cowardice.
And one day, the dead,
spoiled dreams make it
difficult to breathe, and we
actually seek death. It’s death
that frees us from our
certainties, from our work,
and from that terrible peace
of our Sunday afternoons
Words from Petrus to me
during The pilgrimage to
Santiago de Compostela
process of our killing our
dreams is the lack of time.
The busiest people I have
known in my life always have
time enough to do
everything. Those who do
nothing are always tired and
pay no attention to the little
amount of work they are
required to do. They
complain constantly that the
day is too short. The truth is,
they are afraid to fight the
Good Fight.
The second symptom of
the death of our dreams lies
in our certainties. Because we
don ’t want to see life as a
grand adventure, we begin to
think of ourselves as wise
and fair and correct in asking
so little of life. We look
beyond the walls of our day-
to-day existence, and we
hear the sound of lances
breaking, we smell the dust
and the sweat, and we see
the great defeats and the fire
in the eyes of the warriors.
But we never see the delight,
the immense delight in the
hearts of those who are
engaged in the battle. For
them, neither victory nor
defeat is important; what’s
important is only that they
are fighting the Good Fight.
And, finally, the third
symptom of the passing of
our dreams is peace. Life
becomes a Sunday
afternoon; we ask for
nothing grand, and we cease
to demand anything more
than we are willing to give. In
that state, we think of
ourselves as being mature;
we put aside the fantasies of
our youth, and we seek
personal and professional
achievement. We are
surprised when people our
age say that they still want
this or that out of life. But
really, deep in our hearts, we
know that what has
happened is that we have
renounced the battle for our
dreams – we have refused to
fight the Good Fight.
When we renounce our
dreams and find peace, we
go through a short period of
tranquility. But the dead
dreams begin to rot within us
and to infect our entire
being.
We become cruel to those
around us, and then we
begin to direct this cruelty
against ourselves. That’s
when illnesses and psychoses
arise. What we sought to
avoid in combat –
disappointment and defeat –
come upon us because of
our cowardice.
And one day, the dead,
spoiled dreams make it
difficult to breathe, and we
actually seek death. It’s death
that frees us from our
certainties, from our work,
and from that terrible peace
of our Sunday afternoons
Words from Petrus to me
during The pilgrimage to
Santiago de Compostela
