Forward, always forward.

When I was young, I told myself that I wouldn't lose my optimism and dreams and imagination. I couldn't even understand how people could 'lose' that. I was as starry-eyed as a little girl could be. I didn't believe that children would soon find a hat instead of elephants inside boa constrictors; but books and TV and adults warned me otherwise.

Lately, I've been pondering about how the holidays have felt differently each year from when I was a little girl. It felt like there were more Christmas lights along the streets when I was younger; the Christmas carols were more resounding; and the days leading up to Christmas morning, more...alive.

Sometimes I'd dream about those times when I'd write letters to Santa Claus and slip them inside my stocking and argue over my defensive Grandma who I suspected had been filling up my stockings with candies, leaving no room for Santa to put my bicycle.

Sometimes, I'd look at our Christmas tree and think about the times when I had to pull up a chair beside it just so I could place a star or an angel on top of it.

Sometimes I'd just listen to a Christmas song and remember myself in my dainty little dress with my pretty little shoulder bag on Christmas day.

Sometimes I just want to be a kid once again.

Then I ask myself: Since when did I stop being a kid? Was it the day that I found out that Santa and his reindeers and elves were not real? Was it the day when I found out that there is a life beyond my dollhouse? Was it the day when I had my first heartbreak? Was it the day when I got tired of dreaming?

All I could say to myself is that life happens. As we grow up, we tend to find new goals and aspirations, and forget about the simple joys of life that used to matter. We forget about so many things that we neglect the kid in all of us.

I would never want to lose my faith in the simple. That's why I keep coming back to it. I write and I dream. I remember and I cherish. Then I realize that I've never stopped being a kid after all. I just feel like I do because the world can be so mean and disheartening that I begin to question whether my dreams and imagination still have a place in it.

They DO have a place in it. And this is a thought that I wish everyone would remember. Even though I don't get excited anymore about the contents of my stockings on Christmas day, I do celebrate the holidays and all the memories and the hope for better days that come with it.

I guess it's the passion for life and love that keeps a person dreaming and wondering and looking forward to everyday like a child. If this is true, then I am lucky to be a kid--still.

Before the year closes, I look back at all the previous years and examine myself today. It's still me. I'm still the starry-eyed little girl I once was. I'm still hungry for new things. Still wanting to learn something. Always wanting to go somewhere. Still holding on to my dreams, with my feet on the ground.

I've always been that girl.

(I was watching TV a while ago and tuned in to this. It was Lea Salonga's "Your Songs" concert last year. Her final song was 'Journey'. I thought that it would be a nice soundtrack to this year-end entry. Actually, it fits perfectly. =))