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I just wanted to take minute and ask everyone.
"When did you stop believing?"
I went on my first trip to NYC went I was about nine with my family. We visited the Museum of Natural History, rode on the subway and took a trip to FAO Schwartz, just a simply family trip.
This memory is imprinted on my brain, not because of the places I visited or the things I did with my family that day, but because it was the first time I was introduced to the world at large. The first time I saw a homeless person. The first time I saw someone begging for food and money. The first time I saw how no one cared.

As a kid I couldn't wrap my brain around this and as an adult I struggle still. How could people just pretend that the sadness that is everywhere didn't exist? How could the world be this way?
So I decided that when I grew up I was going to do something about it. I remember telling my parents that when I got old enough I was going to open a store just like FAO Schwartz and let all the homeless people live and work there so they wouldn't have to live on the streets.
My parent's just smiled at me, now I realize because they didn't want me to see that the world unfortunately cold be a very cruel place. But I held that dream in my heartand I BELIEVED it could become true. I believed that I could make a difference in peoples lives. I BELIEVED I could do something to change the world, but instead I allowed the world to change me.
And again I ask.
"When did you stop believing."
I know that I stopped believing. I know that I allowed the voices of the majority to have me believe that this world is a cruel one, a place of struggle, a place that in which dreams exist only for a few.
But I also know what life was like when I did believe. Santa Claus was as real as you or me until someone told me he wasn't.I believed I could be whoever and whatever I could dream possible, until someone told me I couldn't.
I stopped believing when others told me that belief wasn't possible.
That the limitations of others would be the confines of the life I was to live.
If I didn't measure up to the unwritten standards, then I didn't qualify.
I listened..and ultimately I forgot who I wanted to be when I grew up.
I forgot the power I had. I forgot that I was a perfect unique expression of the universe. I forgot that my life could be a manifestation of the dreams I held within my heart. But the thing about forgetting is that as some point, you begin to remember.
It's starts out as a subtle nudge, just a sense

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