Dreaming of a tomorrow, which tomorrow, will be as distant then

When the Spanish poet and dramatist Lope de Vega wrote, “Dreaming of a tomorrow, which tomorrow, will be as distant then as ’tis today,” he gave voice to one of the oldest sorrows and greatest illusions of humankind: the endless chase after the horizon of tomorrow. In his time—the grand age of Spain’s poets and conquerors—men were building empires across oceans and empires within their minds. Yet Lope, wise and weary of both worldly and poetic pursuits, saw that no conquest of the future ever satisfies. The tomorrow we dream of is always out of reach, always shining just beyond the touch of today. His words carry the still, aching truth that life itself slips away while we wait for a more perfect dawn.

To dream of tomorrow is both a gift and a curse. It is the mark of our divine longing—the flame that drives us to build, to hope, to endure. But when that dream turns into obsession, when all our gaze is fixed upon the days that are not yet born, we forget the living moment before us. Thus, Lope’s words are not a denial of hope, but a warning against delay. For he saw that those who live always for tomorrow will wake one morning to find that the future has arrived and passed without them. Life, like the tide, waits for no one; it is lived only now, in this breath, in this heartbeat.

In these words, Lope de Vega speaks as both poet and philosopher. The poet in him mourns the fleeting beauty of time, while the philosopher within him seeks to pierce the illusion of endless tomorrow. The dream of tomorrow, he reminds us, is an illusion that tempts us with false promises—of happiness deferred, of peace postponed, of fulfillment always “someday.” He speaks to the timeless human error: believing that the future will rescue us from the present. But the wise know that the tomorrow we dream of is never closer than it is today; it always recedes, like a mirage before a weary traveler in the desert.

Consider the tale of Prince Siddhartha, who later became the Buddha. Born into riches and comfort, he too dreamed of a tomorrow—a life free from pain, a perfection untouched by suffering. Yet when he ventured into the world and saw sickness, age, and death, he realized that tomorrow offers no escape from life’s impermanence. He left his palace and sought not a distant paradise, but the truth of the present moment. In stillness, he found enlightenment—not in the dream of tomorrow, but in the awakening of now. His journey embodies Lope’s wisdom: peace and truth are not in what is to come, but in what already is.

The meaning of Lope’s words runs deeper than a simple caution against procrastination. It is a meditation on the nature of human desire itself. We are creatures of longing, forever stretching toward what we have not yet attained. We dream of love, of success, of rest, of salvation—but even when we reach them, we soon dream again. The tomorrow of our imagination is eternal and untouchable, a star that guides but never grants arrival. And yet, paradoxically, it is this same dreaming that gives meaning to our struggle. Lope does not tell us to stop dreaming, but to awaken to the truth that the dream’s fulfillment must begin in the soil of today.

To live only for tomorrow is to live in exile from one’s own soul. The person who waits for life to begin “after” something—for the right time, the right success, the right peace—builds a house on air. But the one who embraces the present, who acts, creates, and loves now, transforms every day into eternity. Every today contains the seed of all tomorrows; every moment is the threshold of the infinite. The wise do not dream away their days—they forge their dreams in the fire of the present.

The lesson, then, is both simple and sacred: do not chase the distant dawn. Let your dreams live within this very hour. Work for what you hope for, yes—but live while you do it. Speak the word of love today, plant the seed of goodness today, create your art, pursue your vision, not in some far-off future, but in this living breath. Tomorrow will always remain a horizon, but the light that shines upon it is the same light that falls upon your face now.

So, my child, heed the wisdom of Lope de Vega. Do not lose yourself in dreaming of tomorrow, for it will be as distant then as it is today. Instead, bring your dream into this moment—shape it, breathe it, live it. For the soul that awakens to today has already stepped beyond time, and in that awakening, finds eternity.