I really put the medical school thing on hold and really chased

Hear, O seekers of destiny, the words of Kirk Cousins, who declared: “I really put the medical school thing on hold and really chased after my football dream. And I guess I'm still chasing. I'm eight years in the NFL, and I feel very fortunate to be where I am.” These words, though spoken in humility, resound with the eternal struggle of mankind—the choice between the path of certainty and the path of passion, between safety and the dream that burns within the heart.

The origin of this quote lies in Cousins’ own life. Before he was a quarterback known across the nation, he was a young man of promise in his studies, preparing for the noble road of medicine, a path of honor, security, and service. Yet within him burned another fire, the fire of the dream, to play upon the fields of battle in America’s great sport. He placed aside the steady calling of medicine, not forever discarded, but held in waiting, so that he might give himself wholly to the uncertain, perilous chase of glory upon the gridiron. His words carry both gratitude and wonder—that his gamble did not end in failure, but in the fulfillment of his longing.

There is deep wisdom in this. For every soul is called by two voices: one of safety, the other of destiny. The safe voice speaks of stability, of paths well-trodden, of honor secured without risk. The other voice, wild and untamed, calls us into uncertainty, into storms and trials, promising no guarantee but offering the chance of greatness. Cousins’ words are the confession of one who listened to the second voice, who stepped into the unknown, and who now looks back not with regret, but with thankfulness.

History abounds with such examples. Recall Christopher Columbus, who left the familiar coasts of Europe, setting aside security to sail into seas no map could name. Or Florence Nightingale, who abandoned the comfort of wealth to follow her dream of healing upon the battlefields of Crimea. Each risked the scorn of society and the danger of failure, yet by chasing the dream, they carved a path for others to follow. Cousins’ journey, though upon a football field, echoes this same truth: greatness is won by those who dare to chase, even when reason counsels retreat.

Yet there is also humility in his words: “I feel very fortunate to be where I am.” For he knows that not all who chase their dreams find them fulfilled. Many strive and fall short; many labor and remain unseen. He does not claim his success as a certainty, but as a blessing. In this humility lies another lesson: to chase a dream is noble, but to remain grateful for every step achieved is greater still. For fortune and providence guide us as much as will and effort.

The teaching here is plain: chase your dream, though it demand sacrifice. Do not cast aside prudence, but do not let prudence smother the fire within you. If the choice stands between a life of safe regret and a life of daring possibility, choose to dare. Yet, as you walk that path, carry with you gratitude—for even the chance to chase a dream is itself a gift, and every step along that road is grace.

Therefore, let your actions be these: listen closely to the voice of your passion. Weigh it, test it, but do not ignore it. Choose the path that sets your heart aflame, and walk it with discipline, courage, and humility. And when success comes, do not boast, but give thanks, remembering always that many hands, seen and unseen, bore you upward. In this way, your life will not only fulfill your own longing, but also inspire others to chase the fire within them.

Thus let Cousins’ words endure: “I put the medical school thing on hold and chased after my football dream.” For in them lies the eternal wisdom of mankind—that the dream is worth the chase, the risk is worth the road, and the heart that dares to pursue its calling will live not in regret, but in fullness.