HAPPY BIRTHDAY KJ: "I WANT TO BE A WRITER"

When I was in elementary school, my Aunt Nannie turned 33; she called it her Larry Bird birthday. I remember thinking to myself, “33, that’s so old,” but here I am celebrating my 37th birthday.

My favorite Disney character has to be Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up. Peter had a whimsical freedom on life, maybe a bit immature about practical things like employment, meal planning, budgeting, or personal hygiene. Peter lived in the moment. I fantasize about mentally flying in the freedom Peter Pan did, but often feel shot down by arrows of self-made altitude limitations. I’ve come to realize Peter’s life seems like a dream on the outside, but on the inside, a nightmare. The turmoil of watching those you love on the other side of Never Never Land age, or lose their whimsy must be incredibly painful.

I’m wrestling with a loss of innocence at 37, a cosmic battle of the voices in my head. One voice says, “get a real job and keep it; you have three kids, responsibilities, your chance to do something great has passed you, you’re a 37-year-old man, dreams are just for kids!” There’s another, shier voice that speaks if I’m quiet enough to listen and it makes me soar. It creeps into my subconscious and beckons me to dream big dreams again.

God gave me a brain (rational) and a heart (emotional) to operate TOGETHER. When I polarized these complex organs, their unique functions operate independently bringing melancholy to my soul. My soul is a gentleman, shy, with a withering voice fading deeper into the background of my loud non-conscious that squeezes dreams dry.

The year of rational, emotional dreams starts now! HOPE (Positive Imagination)! As my head and heart work together mutually sacrificing to get the other organ to the top, I will begin to dream realities. When I sit down in my spare time, I’m always thinking, researching, watching, listening, learning from talented screen and speech writers of the past and present. At 37, with a wife and three beautiful girls, my dream is to be a writer. It seems immature, impulsive, an escape from reality, a hobby (maybe for a while). It seems impossible, but as Walt Disney said, “It’s kind of fun to do the impossible.”

Here’s to those who dare to do the impossible!

Happy 37th Birthday KJ!