The Untold Story

Some folks are just born lucky or smart … or something like that. However, most of us fall into the routine of daily life and eventually put our dreams on the back burner until they grow cold. We go to work every day and rarely think about them, except in those “what if” moments when we’re watching a sunset or staring blankly out of the car window. “Oh sure,” we tell ourselves. “That’s what I’d really like to do … someday.” How many somedays do you have tucked away in your attic? How many wrinkled sheets of paper have you scribbled upon, only to have them buried beneath a pile of bills and to do lists and other such paper weights of daily responsibility? Maybe we’ve just got our piles sorted wrong. Maybe we need to dust off our dreams and move them to the top of that pile. Once we have a job and a car and a house, maybe even some kids, then we tend to think that life is pretty much set and it might be dangerous, even treasonous, to upset the apple cart. Too many obligations. Too many responsibilities. Yet, I have learned that any life is still only set in wet cement. There’s some wiggle room. In fact, it’s all a matter of perspective. Some of the pages have already been written, but only the ones in the past. The days and years which lie ahead of us are still an untold story. They are blank pages, offering ample opportunity to tweak the plot. Today is just about over, but when you wake up tomorrow morning it will be a brand new day and we have the freedom, even the responsibility, to alter it for the better. Now don’t go doing anything crazy … at least not right away. I encourage you, though, to be open-minded. Think wet cement. Think clay. Think … possibility. Now close your eyes, take a deep breath, and then take a baby step in a completely different direction. Lots of your life still lies ahead so make the most of it.

The Untold Story
We each have an untold story
A whole life yet to live
With unlimited possibilities
To grow and become and give
We all have dreams within us
Waiting and longing to be explored
Too often, they fall by the wayside
Trampled, forgotten ... ignored
Until they are lost in the cobwebs
Withered by worry and care
We tuck them away in the attic
Of our hearts and forget they are there
Somehow, we simply stop dreaming
Working year after year, we grow old
Conceding the obvious course of life
We assume that the story’s been told
But while there is breath in our bodies
While there is hope in our hearts
The plot may still be refashioned
From second chances, even fresh starts
If we can but muster the courage
To dust off the dreams we once knew
Dare to dream them again wholeheartedly
We might see those dreams coming true
The most frightening, amazing, exciting thing
Precious, far beyond riches or gold
Is the wondrous, empty page of life
With its story about to unfold
By Frank Carpenter ©