possibly too much david tenant...parents, take heed.
It's hard to explain why this is such an issue for me. But there's a thing in my brain. A very real thing. And it won't accept that there is not yet such a thing as a human colony in space (not including the space station). It won't accept that there are not ACTUALLY dragons flying around somewhere.
I believe. I have always believed. Not in a sci-fi geek way. But in the way that I just know it is real. Sort of how, when living in a desert I still knew that, somewhere, there was rain.
About a year ago, I mentioned to some of you the thought, asked you the question: If you were offered a chance to take three important people (including animals) with you but you had to leave everyone and everything else behind, would you accept a position as a colonist going lightyears from earth to some unknown new frontier? Would you go? Who would you take? Why?
I think a lot of folks considered this a hypothetical but I was truly serious. Like a 5 year old asking if you would ever seriously consider climbing everest. Difficult, of course. Any number of hurdles to leap just to get on the list, but it. could. be. done. That level of serious. I meant it with every fiber of my being.
Imagine, now, the crushing blow when it occurred to me that it wasn't going to happen in my lifetime. I still believe that it can. I still, in some crazy part of my brain, honestly believe that I could be on that list. That I could take my 3 people and finally have my frontier. I would leave. I would look back and miss you all. But I would leave. Ghost1 put it best. He said he'd always known that I was a frontier girl with no frontier.
It's the same irrational certainty with dragons. I know. that. they. exist. I know that I could ride one. I know that I can shape shift and I know that I can fly. Not in some weird zen fashion. But really fly. I know that I could step out off a cliff and spread my arms, now wings, screaming victory to the heavens and soar in defiance of all you hold to be true.
Every day of my life I pull out these pieces and scraps of knowledge and hold them to the light like amber. They glitter in my hands and sing songs only I hear. I refuse to let them go because they are precious to me. I refuse to accept what science and reason deny me: that they are true. I know they are true. I know it.
I want to look into the eyes of every daydreaming child, every bored student. I want them to see what is in my mind and know the inspiration I feel. I want them to apply themselves so that we can make it all true. Magic is only undiscovered science. If someone had told me that in childhood, imagine who I would be today.
So, parents, tell your children. Let them know what they can achieve with their dry studies. Show them the splendor and explain how they can weave wonder out of atoms and dark matter. Turn their gazes to their equations and let their imaginations recreate the universe.
I believe. I have always believed. Not in a sci-fi geek way. But in the way that I just know it is real. Sort of how, when living in a desert I still knew that, somewhere, there was rain.
About a year ago, I mentioned to some of you the thought, asked you the question: If you were offered a chance to take three important people (including animals) with you but you had to leave everyone and everything else behind, would you accept a position as a colonist going lightyears from earth to some unknown new frontier? Would you go? Who would you take? Why?
I think a lot of folks considered this a hypothetical but I was truly serious. Like a 5 year old asking if you would ever seriously consider climbing everest. Difficult, of course. Any number of hurdles to leap just to get on the list, but it. could. be. done. That level of serious. I meant it with every fiber of my being.
Imagine, now, the crushing blow when it occurred to me that it wasn't going to happen in my lifetime. I still believe that it can. I still, in some crazy part of my brain, honestly believe that I could be on that list. That I could take my 3 people and finally have my frontier. I would leave. I would look back and miss you all. But I would leave. Ghost1 put it best. He said he'd always known that I was a frontier girl with no frontier.
It's the same irrational certainty with dragons. I know. that. they. exist. I know that I could ride one. I know that I can shape shift and I know that I can fly. Not in some weird zen fashion. But really fly. I know that I could step out off a cliff and spread my arms, now wings, screaming victory to the heavens and soar in defiance of all you hold to be true.
Every day of my life I pull out these pieces and scraps of knowledge and hold them to the light like amber. They glitter in my hands and sing songs only I hear. I refuse to let them go because they are precious to me. I refuse to accept what science and reason deny me: that they are true. I know they are true. I know it.
I want to look into the eyes of every daydreaming child, every bored student. I want them to see what is in my mind and know the inspiration I feel. I want them to apply themselves so that we can make it all true. Magic is only undiscovered science. If someone had told me that in childhood, imagine who I would be today.
So, parents, tell your children. Let them know what they can achieve with their dry studies. Show them the splendor and explain how they can weave wonder out of atoms and dark matter. Turn their gazes to their equations and let their imaginations recreate the universe.