When I was younger and filled with enthusiasm, optimism and Tiny Teddy biscuits, I used to love getting mail.
Mail represented hope. It represented fun,
excitement and a connection to the outside world.
There was something amazing about the
potential in every envelope. One piece of paper could change your life in an
instant.
Maybe I had won that cool prize-pack on
Cheez TV. Maybe Luke Skywalker finally got my letters. Maybe the girl I had a
crush on tracked down my address and was about to confess her love. Maybe, just
maybe, Nintendo were going to hire me as their chief game-tester.
But, the dream that held a special place
above the others was that one day, the Collingwood Football Club would write to
my parents, asking if I could play for the Magpies.
"Mr. and Mrs. Ciconte, we’ve seen
incredible potential in your son Dominic’s backyard kick-to-kick sessions and
we’d like him to train with us and be a Collingwood footballer."
Fast forward 20 years and last week, filled
with scepticism, bitterness and Tiny Teddy biscuits, I checked the mail
Worst of all, there’s still no letter from
Collingwood.
With every year that passes by, the chance
of receiving that letter becomes less and less likely.
I'm starting to get old, my knees are not
what they used to be, I haven't played football competitively for almost a
decade and I’m not sure how comfortable I’d be coming in and easily taking a
spot from professional athletes that have been training their whole lives for
that opportunity – it would be selfish of me.
The dilemma made me think about the other
things that may have passed me by.
- Yesterday robbed me of the chance to drink the now-expired milk in my fridge.
- Last week saw me cross the vortex when non-contact for 12 months turns a friend into an ‘old friend’.
- In my working life, I’ve had seven opportunities to legitimately use the excuse “it’s my first day” and I’ve wasted them all.
- Last week I heard a sound bite of myself singing – I’ve since cancelled my plans for a world tour.
- Almost a decade ago, I lost the opportunity to speak to the man I was named after ever again.
Every day provides an opportunity to do
something great, something amazing, something you’ll remember for the rest of
your life. But, for each opportunity you gain, one slips away. The trick is to make sure that you are taking more from each day than it’s taking from you.
For many of us, most of our (realistic) dreams will be achievable until the day we die, but, there are some dreams that will slip away well before we’re ready to let them ago.
I guess knowing the right
time to let go is a skill you gain while growing up – somewhere in that time
period between being excited by the mail and being disappointed by it.
There are some dreams I’m
willing to let go of, but, it’s going to be a long time before I give up on that
letter from Collingwood.