A man walks along the sand of a deserted, tropical beach. The sun radiates down from a cloudless sky. Yellow against blue. The turquoise of the water is broken only by the rhythm of the waves, that create lines of white, that move perpetually ever on toward the sand, and to their ultimate doom, in the eternal cycle of the ocean. Walking alongside the man is a dog. Playful, barking with joy, running in and out of the water, trying to coax the man into throwing a stone, into throwing a stick, into throwing anything that can be chased and retrieved. Together, man and dog, dog and man, walk ever on. And the dream is made.
This was not just a dream. This was my dream. This is my dream. Only, now it is no longer a dream, it is my waking reality. The man and the beach. The dog is still to come. I chose to follow my heart and to find a way of making my dream become my reality. It wasn't easy, it's still not easy. It has involved a lot of hard work, dedication, sacrifice, determination, luck and most of all, courage. And yet here I am.
I was born in England. I grew up in the south of England. I experienced snow in winter and hard frosts on the ground in winter. On any given day of the year there is the possibility of rain. Oh! the endless days of rain. Grey clouds settle over England and stay there, uninterrupted for weeks at an end, denying the people any glimmer of sunshine. It becomes oppressive. The clouds seem to push down, to suffocate the life out of those below. It is possible to swim in the sea during the summer, but that requires stamina and hardiness, to endure the cold water. The local beach where I grew up is a mixture of shingle and sand, with large wooden groynes that run perpendicular to the coastline, at a spacing of around 50 yards. All along the expanse of the beach that lines the residential area, a stretch of around six miles, these large wooden monstrosities lay, their purpose, to prevent the shingle and sand from being washed away by the long shore drift of the tide. I longed for a soft, golden, uninterrupted, natural, sand beach, fringed by palm trees, and with warm, clear, tropical water. England did not fit the picture that I had created in my mind for of dream. England was not the place where I could live out my dream. To do that, it would be necessary to move overseas.
Life is full of tough choices and hard decisions. Anything that is worthwhile is not obtained easily. Walking the true path is like this. To fulfill my dream, to discover my true purpose in life, it was necessary for me to go overseas and in doing so, to live my life away from my parents, away from my brother and my sister, away from my grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. It was necessary to leave behind those people I have known since childhood and count as my closest, dearest and oldest of friends. It was necessary to leave behind my best and closest friend. In short, to achieve my dream, I left behind every singe person that I cared for. That is the price that I was willing to pay, that is the price that had to be paid. There was no other option. Actually, that is not strictly true.
Of course there was another option. I could have chosen not to pursue my dream. I could have chosen a life in England, close to my family and friends. And in so doing, I would not only have denied myself my dream and the chance of finding true happiness, I would have chosen the path of pain, misery and regret. Had I not left England, I would forever have been unfulfilled and forever questioning my purpose and existence. Forever wondering and asking myself, "What if..?" My life would have been plagued by remorse and regret.
That I left my family behind not mean for one instant that I do not love them dearly. I do. It does not mean that I am not close with my parents, with my brother, or with my sister. I am. It does not mean that my family does not love me. I know that they do. What this means is that in fact, I love them all the more because of it. Never once have my parents tried to stand in my way or stop me. Never once have they tried to talk me out of going overseas. They know me. They know that I am driven by a passion to do what I must, and so they let me. They understand that I must find my way. That is the greatest gift they could give to me, and I am so very grateful for it, as I am grateful to them for all that they have given to me. I could not be here, living out my dream, if it were not for their love and the opportunities that they have afforded me.
I return to England and visit my family and friends every 18 months to two years on average. The thought of leaving, knowing that I do not know the next time that I will see them breaks my heart. It rips me apart. But I have to do it, if I am to follow my dreams.
That is the price to be paid. There is always a price. I pay my price for following my dreams. I know that I must, I understand the sacrifices I must make, in order to pursue my purpose, in order to walk my one true path. Yes, I pay my price, are you willing to pay yours?
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