I can think of some things that would be fun, but I'm living my

“I can think of some things that would be fun, but I’m living my dreams.” – Mike Farrell

Hear, O seeker of purpose, the gentle but profound wisdom in these words of Mike Farrell, an actor and humanitarian whose life moved beyond the glitter of fame toward the light of meaning. His words seem simple, yet they echo the ancient truth that true joy is not found in fleeting pleasure, but in the steady flame of fulfillment. When he says, “I can think of some things that would be fun,” he acknowledges that the world offers many temptations, many amusements that might stir the senses. But when he adds, “I’m living my dreams,” he proclaims that his soul has found something greater—purpose, the quiet joy that endures when all lesser delights have faded.

The ancients understood this distinction well. They knew that fun is the play of the moment, bright but passing, while dreams are the work of a lifetime, carved deep into the spirit. To live one’s dreams is to walk the path laid by one’s destiny—to labor in harmony with the calling of one’s heart. It is the difference between the flicker of a candle and the steadfast burning of the sun. Farrell’s words remind us that while pleasure may entertain, purpose transforms. To choose purpose is to choose a joy that does not depend on circumstance, but on the soul’s own integrity.

The life of Mike Farrell bears witness to his saying. Known first to the world as an actor in MASH*, he could have spent his days in the pursuit of applause and comfort. Yet he turned instead toward service, becoming an advocate for peace, justice, and human rights. He found that the world’s stage was not enough—his dream was larger, his duty deeper. In living that dream, he found something beyond the passing thrill of success: the still satisfaction of a life aligned with compassion and truth. His words are the reflection of that realization—a reminder that the heart fulfilled has no hunger for distractions.

This wisdom shines also in the life of Florence Nightingale, who might have chosen the ease of wealth and society, but instead followed a vision of mercy that led her into the darkness of war. Others sought pleasure; she sought purpose. In the filth of the Crimean hospitals, she found her calling, and though her life was hard and her joys often solemn, she too could have said, “I’m living my dreams.” For she had found her life’s work, and within that work, her peace.

To live one’s dreams is not always to live in comfort. It is to walk through struggle and uncertainty with the quiet strength of knowing one’s direction. The fun that Farrell speaks of—the easy pleasures, the diversions of the idle—can bring laughter for an hour, but not fulfillment for a lifetime. Yet to live one’s dream, even in hardship, is to feel the deep pulse of meaning that outlasts all temporary joys. This is the ancient law of the spirit: that true happiness is not the absence of toil, but the presence of purpose.

So, O listener, learn from these words: pleasure will pass like the seasons, but purpose will root you like a tree. Ask yourself not what is most amusing, but what is most true. When faced with many paths, choose the one that answers your soul’s call, even if it demands more of you. For in serving your dream, you will find a joy no idle amusement can match.

Practice this: when the world tempts you with glittering distractions, pause and ask, Will this feed my soul, or merely my senses? Chase not what excites, but what endures. Give your energy to the work that brings light to others, meaning to your days, and peace to your heart. Then, like Mike Farrell, you will one day look upon your life and say, not with pride but with quiet gratitude, “I’m living my dreams.”

And in that moment, you will understand the highest joy of all—the joy not of fun, but of fulfillment, not of passing laughter, but of lasting purpose. For the greatest pleasure is not found in escape, but in embodiment: to be wholly alive within the life you were meant to live.