Why is it that both the deepest, most cherished wishes and the most heartbreaking, primal fears are oft not spoken, as if to utter them aloud would dissolve hopes, empower dread? Call it superstition; call it what you’d like, but unspoken dreams have a kind of power, a potential energy that is lost or diminished once announced as fact. Once a dream is outed as an intention a roadmap appears – one riddled with deep chasms no bridge could span, impassable deserts, uncharted roads. In short, every imagined roadblock grows obvious while the destination recedes, a dot nearly indiscernible from the surrounding flora.
As it turns out, dreams take imagination while intentions take hard work. Moreover, intentions become goals, hard and tactile, that require commitment – commitment to a belief in a self capable of finding detours, scaling canyon walls, and navigating the most treacherous terrain.
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