I Was Born In CANada

This old blog post of mine is sweetly inspiring.

The critic in me wants to comment on its naivety and centricity around western culture, but…

If we’ve got the privilege, why not do something great with it?

Today as I was musing with my friend over lunch, I half-jokingly proposed a book idea to her. She said, “You know what? Why don’t you write that book? You could.”

Never had I ever found such a mundane thought so inspiring. Throughout the day, I came up with more and more ideas. For example my hermit house. Who besides myself could create such an idea from spying a home with a wall covered in ivy slowly creeping into its windows? Maybe you. Perhaps, you, at the same moment as I, decided that it could be one of your life long dreams to build a small cottage in a forested area or even a small farm property, just to leave and be covered in ivy. A cottage that, at some point in our insubstantial lives, you could share with your children or find an escape from life for awhile.

You know what? I was born in CANada and however crazy my dreams may be, I can make them happen. I can make them happen. This is just a reminder to all of you out there, You make your dreams happen. We all just need that lunch-musing friend to remind us of that.

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