That's what a lot of us think, because those are the oldest dreams we're conscious of, the first ones we remember formulating.
But before that -- before we ever imagined ourselves rocketing to outer space or drumming in a rock band -- we had other dreams. The first ones we ever felt.
If we rediscover those, a lot of us, particularly those of us who are parents, just may find the "sacrifices" we make for family a lot easier to accept.
I rediscovered mine after my wife skipped labor and I had to guide my son into this world.
On the phone with 911, I unraveled the umbilical cord that was snaked all over his neck.
In that moment, I saw life -- its fragility and its opportunity -- in a new way.
As I wrote in my CNN.com column, "what matters most -- my real values and priorities -- became crystal clear. Nothing else even existed."
A lot of people have asked me about that. What did I see -- and what didn't I see?
When I was preparing to give a TEDx Talk about chasing big dreams, I realized the answer.
What I saw, in that moment, was my real first dream, and my son's.
I live by my dreams. Throughout my career, instead of following traditional paths, I've come up with new ideas for what I wanted to do and found ways to make them happen.
I've been fortunate. Those dreams have brought me to the places I've wanted to be.
Everyone should chase big dreams. It brings a deep sense of satisfaction. And it makes the world better. We have advanced societies, stronger buildings to withstand storms, medical discoveries, technology, entertainment and so much more because dreamers pursued their visions and worked hard to make them happen.
But dream-chasing can also be addictive. Some people become so obsessed with making one idea happen that they stop focusing on what's most important in their lives. They stop spending time with their families and friends. As with any addiction, they pay a price.
In the moment my son was being born, all my professional dreams ceased to exist. In that room, it was just the four of us -- my wife, our then 3-year-old son, the baby, and me. Family and fatherhood were all I saw.


