"You must begin by knowing that you have already arrived ..."

When I was a child, my father would raise me on his shoulders as we would walk, and fill my head with stories of adventure and friendship. The stories revolved around two characters, a seagull and a doll I owned called First Love. While the house was empty, the seagull would come to call on First Love, she would climb on his back and off they would go on their great adventures to far flung corners of the world. Of course, when I would return home, I would go to check on First Love to see if I could catch sight of a sign of life or movement in her, but, ultimately, she was unyielding, laying in the same spot where she had been abandoned when we last played. Nonetheless, the magic of these stories would fill my head and the dreaming began.

As I grew older, Dad continued to build on his 'reach further, fly higher lessons' with simple lectures while we drove around the countryside in our old car. "Why be a nurse when you can be a doctor? Why be an air stewardess when you can be the pilot?" During one of these conversations my younger brother, not much more than 9 at the time, piped up with "Yeah! Why be the jockey when you can be the horse?" I remember us laughing till we cried, but you know, regardless of how funny the analogy sounded, the message remained the same. If you can think it, you can do it!

Until my mid-twenties, I believed that my father had created the character of Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Imagine my surprise when he said my idea to put the stories to paper might be a copyright infringement. Shortly thereafter, and by pure coincidence (if you believe in coincidence that is), a fleeting acquaintance handed me that understated little book by Richard Bach. It's message was simple yet powerful, and one that had been informing my philosophy on life long before I ever turned the pages in the book itself.

Over the years the paths I've taken and the choices I've made have ultimately led me to becoming a kind of outcast in my own right, the black sheep. I am no-one special, I'm just a dreamer. In the process of following one dream, I discover another and follow it. I think people just don't get that sometimes. Why don't you settle? What about a family? What about your career? Why do you keep taking yourself further and further away from home? How can you build a life like that?

When the mountaineer, George Leigh Mallory was asked why he wanted to climb Mount Everest, he answered simply "Because it’s there!" Jonathan gave a similar response to his mother, when in the book, she asks him why he cannot be like the rest of the flock, why he was so obsessive about testing his flight abilities.

"I don't mind being bone and feathers mom. I just want to know
what I can do in the air and what I can't, that's all. I just
want to know."

I may never be a doctor or a pilot but then, those are not my dreams. My dreams are much simpler than that. I want to see, I just want to experience and see. This summer, after some 10 years of dreaming, I finally found myself in Outer Mongolia. I rode a horse, I fired a bow, I lived in a Ger, I met many wonderful people and, while my pockets may be empty, I feel full. Another level has been reached in my understanding of how things work and of what I can do, and a new dream uncovered in the process.

My brother hit the nail on the head when he was 9. Why be the jockey when you can be the horse, riderless, unfettered and free. It's not the easiest of choices to make. Nothing about climbing mountains is easy. Your legs can let you down, you can stumble and fall along the way, altitude sickness can ruffle the feathers a little, but if you follow Chiang's advice to Jonathan and begin like you have already arrived, it can be conquered. There are no limits. And there is nothing, absolutely nothing more beautiful in this world than silently brushing off your bloody knees and enjoying that view from the top when you finally reach it.