Everyone has a Neverland. That’s what J.M. Barrie seems to say.
He says a lot of other things that people have henpecked bloody over the years. That’s not the point.
Everyone has something, somewhere, someone, they keep close when they shut their eyes. And, so it would seem, it’s only by forgetting, by refusing to admit this secret wonderful exists that the world has gone dull and grey.
Perhaps it’s just a fancy.
It’s true for me. I’m a writer. I don’t have to close my eyes to see a secret world of beautiful things. I carry it with me like a soft sweater on my shoulders no one sees. It’s there. Dark blue, in case you were wondering about the color. Although some days it takes on a purple shade.
It’s one of the things that makes me different from the rest of the world.
I don’t give up on stupid ideas. I don’t see the slightest reason why they shouldn’t be real.
I don’t find anything strange about regularly climbing on top of roofs. About spending a year in a balloon. Sailing alone across the sea. About, after you’ve had a perfectly happy career, ditching everything to join the circus.
In fact, I find I’d rather want to.
Sometimes I think I’m quite alone. Days when I go for a walk in the rain and everyone I pass gives an odd look at the hair dripping in my eyes. When I’ve asked the wrong question or said the wrong thing.
So I’m asking.
I have a list of someday-nevers running in my head. Things I’d do if I only had a pinch of nerve and half a chance. And I think I’m not the only one.
So tell me. Did you want to learn to juggle? Did you dream to see the world? Open a florist’s shop? Sing opera? Rule the world?
What adventure do you have that just needs a pinch of luck?
What is your Neverland?