Today, I came across a surprisingly affordable two-seat helicopter.
That was the problem.
Those of us who have aviation in our blood know exactly what happens next.
I started looking at specifications. Power. Range. Fuel consumption. Safety. Price.
The helicopter led me to a Cessna. The Cessna led me to a Tecnam. And somehow, I ended up looking at a Diamond DA20.
Beautiful airplane.
Two seats. Sporty. Efficient.
And then an image appeared in my mind: taking off from Punta Cana and, not too long afterward, landing in Barahona in my own airplane.
That’s when I made the mistake — or perhaps the wise decision — of putting numbers to the dream.
And I discovered something dangerous:
It’s not impossible.
That doesn’t mean I’m buying one tomorrow.
There are still a lot of houses to sell before the DA20.
But something changed.
Because when a dream stops being “maybe someday” and starts having a number attached to it, it no longer feels like a fantasy.
It becomes a possibility.
A possibility that requires work, patience, and, above all, the discipline not to make stupid financial decisions just to reach it sooner.
But somewhere along the way, I realized I wasn’t thinking about airplanes anymore.
I was thinking about life.
Why do I want to fly?
It’s not simply because I enjoy sitting behind a panel of instruments.
It’s because of what flying makes me feel.
Freedom.
Adventure.
Challenge.
The privilege of seeing the world from a different perspective.
That unmistakable feeling of doing something that makes you feel completely alive.
And that led me to a much more important question:
Do I need to own an airplane to feel those things?
Of course not.
I can drive into the countryside this weekend and find myself standing in front of an incredible view.
I can practice a sport I love.
I can take a road I’ve never driven before.
I can sit by the ocean and do absolutely nothing.
I can travel.
I can spend hours having a great conversation with someone I care about.
Some of the best experiences in life cost very little.
Some cost nothing at all.
And I think there’s a quiet trap hidden here.
We spend a significant part of our lives saying:
When I make more money.
When I finish this project.
When I buy that house.
When I can afford that trip.
When I finally get there…
Then I’ll enjoy life.
But life has an uncomfortable habit:
It keeps happening while we’re making plans to live it.
I don’t think the answer is to stop dreaming big.
Quite the opposite.
I want to keep dreaming big.
I want that airplane someday.
And when the time comes, I want to buy it responsibly — without compromising my peace of mind, my projects, or my future.
But I also don’t want the DA20 to carry the responsibility of making me happy.
I want it to arrive in a life I was already enjoying.
Maybe that’s the point.
Work.
Build.
Dream.
Be responsible.
But every once in a while, stop and ask yourself:
What experience can I have today that will make me feel truly alive?
Sometimes it will cost a lot of money.
Sometimes it will cost fifty dollars.
And sometimes, all it will take is walking out the door.
The DA20 can wait.
Life can’t.