For years I wanted to buy a rental property. I got the bug for it when we had the opportunity to rent a 2-bedroom home in Long Beach (we didn’t end up renting it). Because we knew the family who owned it, we also were privy to their cost to own it. At some level I understood the significance of income without working. And for other more personal reasons the idea of owning a home was incredibly important to me.

As our paths developed into careers I was becoming increasingly aware that as self-employed individuals, my partner and I weren’t going to have healthy pensions was waiting for us in our later years. We’d need ongoing income in the future that didn’t depend on our bodies. As I’ve reflected on how I knew that at an early age I realized a lot of that came from witnessing the 2008 economic crash shortly after graduating from college. I saw people left and right of me loosing careers, 401ks, and pensions. I became certain — no career path was a sure thing.

So over the years we’ve made critical steps to move toward that Everest-sized goal of purchasing a rental home. At the ripe old age of 41, we’ve met our goal. The property has been found and purchased. And I love it. It’s my biggest installation project yet! Getting to design it with the people we will serve and host in mind is inspiring like nothing else I’ve made.

As I sat in the upper primary room of this new home a week ago, sandwiched between roofing contractors above me and kitchen contractors on the floor below, I felt like I had touched the flag (I imagine there’s a flag) at the top of Mount Everest. Arrival. Completion. Satisfaction. Wonder at having made it.

Thankfully before the dread of, “Now what?”settled in too deeply my art mentor offered me a picture of what I was experiencing: from this new view I saw a million other Everest’s out in the distance. New places to explore. New adventures to be had. Now it was time to rest after hitting this milestone, but when I’m ready there is still a whole world of wonder to explore, find, and name.

The problem with getting older is it’s so devilishly easy to stop aiming for our Everests. Pursuing some dreams is hard on the body, exhausting to the tired mind — so many responsibilities are already present, taking up once plentiful mental and physical space. It’s tempting to defer the dreaming to the youngest among us.

Herein lies the problem: dreaming is the stuff of being alive. And when we stop dreaming we start withering inside and out. I see this beginning to happen in my peers — making choices of sensibility instead of curiosity, shutting down dreams for more stable pictures of life. Now don’t get me wrong — at times there is a necessity to navigate into a more stable reality. But outside of necessity, when we defer our dreams, ignore them, or outright slam the door on them we are cutting off the growth our being is craving from the pursuit of these dreams.

Dreams keep us alive. Dreams inspire the young. Seeing fully realized adults going for the goals and aspirations that excite them is contagious. It shows them the life they will get to live in 20, 30, or 40 years.

Regardless if you’re 41 or 81, there are more Everests out there than you or I could count. So why not go for one more? See what happens next. Or, as my husband says: play to find out. What’s the worst that could happen?

CHRISTINE LEE SMITH • ARTIST & SPIRITUAL DIRECTOR

The Problem with Getting Older