One dream was dreamt by a loudmouth wastrel who roused himself and told the world all he very shortly would become. He neither planned nor worked. He did not sweat, he did not weep. He did not pray and he did not fast. He merely talked and talked – and when the vision seemed to dim somewhat, he took himself off to bed and dreamt some more.
Another dream was dreamt by a timid genius who was so talented that every work he did was crowned with praise. He saw right away the glories of his potential destiny. He also saw the beasts of fortune guarding the entrances. So he skirted the boundaries of his prosperous future, retreating every time a beast looked his way, bolting every time it roared. And when the dream seemed to dim somewhat, he sighed, went home and tried to dream a more convenient dream.
One mind-blowing dream was given to a comfortable gentleman and at once he set himself to accomplish the goal. It was not a dream of plenty, because he was not starving. It was not a dream of money, because he was not poor. It was in fact a dream that might cost him plenty; a dream that would cost him money. It was a dream of leadership. Yet he was one of those for whom the road of life was an expressway. If your life is as smooth as an expressway, perhaps you have far to travel. Without straining himself our comfortable gentleman soon found himself wealthy. When he traded in khaki it would become the fashion; and whatever he chose to plant this year would invariably become scarce next year. But his destiny was not located on the expressway. There came the day of destiny when he saw the purpose of his life close at hand. But he had to get off the expressway and cut a bush path to his dreams. The man took a contented look at his comfortable circumstances and forfeited his mind-blowing dream.
Yet another dream was dreamt by a totally ordinary man. This man had no distinguishing talent and no spectacular endowment. He was simply a perfectly average fellow who dreamt a glorious dream. And he locked it fast away in his heart. He bolted his mouth and tightened his belt. In the ordinary heart, that extraordinary dream was like high –performance fuel in the chambers of an internal combustion engine.
The man ceased to be ordinary. Day by day, ordinary step by step, in pessimism and in optimism, by day and by night, line by line, failure after disgrace, in good times and in bad, with friend and with foe, in clement and inclement times, he persevered towards his goal.
Often he was discouraged by loudmouths who had ‘seen it all before’. Yet each time he set his sights on the task of the day, and completed it just the same. Several times he was overtaken by geniuses who finished in a week tasks that took him months to complete. Yet, every time he quietly passed them several months afterwards, where they lay, broken and finished.
Now and again, he ran into wealthy, disillusioned folk who had inherited more money than he could every hope to earn in his lifetime. Yet he had the good sense to distinguish between riches and real success. Each time he was able to resist the road to ordinary riches and cut the bush-path to his extraordinary dreams.
Dissatisfied with his present, he was propelled into his future. Tempted by shortcuts, he persisted in his sure course. Harassed by the dogs of despair, he stared them down every time. Depressed and discouraged, he encouraged himself in prayer. There was no one day that he made spectacular progress. Yet the sum total of his daily, ordinary progress was the spectacular success of his incredible dreams realised.
The boy had grown into manhood in daily accretions of imperceptible stature.
The ordinary had become fantastic.
Are you qualified to dream the impossible?
Are you ordinary enough?