When I was five, the world was a place of endless imagination. I probably wanted to be a mermaid—after all, we had a swimming pool, and I was taught to swim at three. Most afternoons, I would glide through the water pretending to be one, hiding in a cave I built from beach towels draped over the diving board, my own secret underwater lair.

As I grew older, my ambitions shifted. At times, I wanted to be a shopkeeper. I played in my cardboard storefront, complete with a toy cash register and shelves lined with groceries. Hours melted away as I arranged items, welcomed imaginary customers, and tallied up their purchases. Maybe a baker I would spend hours in the sandpile making mudpies and lined them up for sale on the end of the sliding board.

Then came my explorer phase. Inspired by Tarzan—my favorite show—I dreamed of living in a treehouse. I would climb the backyard trees and spend days at the creek behind my house. I would be envisioning myself swinging from vines and discovering treasures hidden among the branches.

By the time high school arrived, I was captivated by history and adventure. I dreamed of becoming an archaeologist, traveling to Europe, and digging up mysteries of the past. Later, my passion for words led me to journalism. I wanted to follow in the footsteps of Lewis Grizzard, the columnist, and tell stories that mattered.

These childhood dreams may seem whimsical, but each one shaped the person I am today. They taught me to imagine boldly, explore curiously, and pursue my passions wherever they might lead… I still have dreams, but at this stage of life, I really just want to be happy and enjoy things. esaier said than done it seems..