When I was a child – apart from a brief period at the age of six when I wanted to be a flight attendant (those pretty ladies who went to new places every single day!) – I never had a profession in mind. I never wanted to be a doctor, a teacher or to study economics. What’s more, there were no proper professions in my family: on either sides, my family came from the countryside and the sea, and my parents did whatever jobs came their way: errands, cleaning, waiting tables and the like. I remember, when I started fifth grade, having to fill in a school form that asked my parents’ profession and I didn’t know what to put. I can’t remember what I wrote, maybe “restaurant owner”, but I remember coming home and the first thing I asked was “what is your profession?” and the answer was “shopkeeper”, which told me absolutely nothing.
My childhood was simple, but I had big dreams. What I imagined myself doing was thinking, writing, participating in intelectual discussions, travelling, connecting with others and (let’s not forget!) saving the world. My dreams were big, but I didn’t know how to let them guide my life, perhaps they were too big for me, or at least for who I was at the time. But now that I’m grown up, I want to revisit them one by one, talk to them late into the night, see what they tell me and where they want to take me today. I want to do crazy things, like let all the animals out of the zoo, as Pedro Strecht suggested, or use the money in the bank to pay me for time to write, reflect, talk and travel.
Today I want to go in search of myself, make space and time for my dreams and, as António Gedeão said, let the dream run my life.
Ana
Philosopher’s Stone by António Gedeão (extract)
They don’t know that dreams
are a constant of life
as concrete and defined
as anything else,
like this grey stone
on which I sit and rest,
like this gentle stream
in serene jolts,
like these tall pines
that shake in green and gold,
like these birds that scream
in blue drunkenness.
(…)
They don’t know, nor do they dream,
that dreams command life.
That whenever a man dreams
the world leaps and bounds
like a colourful ball
between the hands of a child.
(translated with DeepL)