Whenever I talk with people the conversations invariably end up with us talking about our dreams. I do not know if I do it, but I have noticed people smile awkwardly and look at you as if they are seeking reassurance whenever this comes up. It is like they expect you to make fun of them and are preparing themselves for the ridicule and seem a bit surprised when you listen instead. It is a testament to the cynical world we live in that we all go into it armed, protecting ourselves from onslaughts real and abstract. I was reminded of this when I was talking to one of my colleagues earlier in the week and he mentioned how he wants to make furniture and lamp shades. I think this is brilliant. If his work as a designer is anything to go by, his creations will be spectacular. I will definitely go for his inaugural exhibition.

A friend of mine is a junior manager at Safaricom. Once upon a time, he mentioned how he would have loved to be a chef. We suffered together in Engineering instead. I have always known him to be focused and determined. He never considered going the kitchen direction because of his father. Cooking is a woman’s job was the unspoken paternal sentiment. No one laughed at his dream because he never even thought of sharing it. That is how lowly chefs are in his father’s eyes compared to engineers. I might be somehow privileged now that I know about his secret thought. I think he should still find a way to pursue cooking. He is one of the smartest people I have ever met, so I am not too worried about him. He will figure something our. That cliché, “Your dreams are valid”, may be truer than you may think, and more so because we get to decide, to a larger degree than we may be aware of, whether the dreams remain in our hearts gathering dust, or whether we will set them free, to fly or to fall to the ground and shatter,  and leave room for more dreams.

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