Golden mean

I knew a woman who always thought small. Her home was small, her family was small, her dreams and wishes were small. Never wishing for something big and impossible, she always got what she wanted. She ended up spoiled rotten. 

I also knew a woman who always dreamt big. But she was lazy. She had huge ambition but her lazyness never let her reach out and achieve. She ended up lonely and miserable. 

And there I was, between these two women, trying to figure out my own dreams. Did I even have dreams? Did I think I could change the world? Did I want to? 

"Sometimes the golden mean is all you can ask for", the voice of my dad coming from far, far away as the sun rises and shines its light all over my face. I wake up and I feel golden and just a tiny bit mean.