The Discipline Behind The Dream
The other night my son was sitting on the floor watching Team USA play in the World Junior Hockey Championships.
He was locked in, Eyes glued to the screen.
At some point he turned to me and said, “Dad… I want to play for Team USA someday.”
That wasn’t new.
He talks about the NHL a lot. About what it would be like “when he’s in the league.” About the players, the crowds, the gear. The other day during a game, we had a full blown conversation about what a “contract” was because he asked me about it and the announcers kept talking about it
He’s eight.
And he believes all of it is possible.
Here’s the thing most adults won’t admit out loud, I know the odds.
I know there’s probably a 0.1% chance, maybe less, that it ever actually happens. I know how many kids want the same thing. I know how early the pipeline starts, how brutal the competition is, how many things have to go right.
But I don’t shut it down.
I don’t tell him it’s unrealistic. I don’t say, “Yeah, but probably not.”
Instead, I let him dream and I tell him the truth alongside it.
I tell him how much those guys practiced. How early they started. How many hours they spent when no one was watching. How many mornings, weekends, and seasons they chose the rink over comfort.
Not to scare him. Not to crush the dream.
But to anchor it in reality.
Because kids don’t just dream, they teach us how to dream.
When I was his age, I don’t remember having anything like that. No big vision. No long term goal. I was just living day to day, reacting to whatever was in front of me. There was no one sitting next to me explaining what commitment looked like, or what it took to turn talent into something real.
Watching him now, I realize something.
Dreaming isn’t the problem. Dreaming without understanding is.
And too many adults swing too far in the other direction. We kill dreams in the name of “being realistic.” We project our disappointments, our missed chances, our cynicism onto kids who haven’t been burned yet.
But there’s a middle ground.
You can let a kid dream and teach them what it costs.
You can say, “Yes, chase it,” while also saying, “This will require sacrifice.”
That lesson matters whether he plays for Team USA or not.
Because the real win isn’t the jersey. It’s learning how to commit to something. How to work toward a goal without guarantees. How to show up consistently even when the outcome is uncertain.
That’s Forge & Freedom.
It’s not about promising outcomes, it’s about choosing the work anyway. It’s about respecting the process, not just the payoff. It’s about learning, early on, that freedom comes from discipline, not luck.
If my son never plays for Team USA, that’s okay.
If he learns how to dream boldly, work honestly, and understand what effort actually looks like, that’s everything.
Sometimes kids don’t need us to tell them what’s possible.
They need us to show them how to pursue it, with their eyes open and their effort locked in.
And sometimes, if we’re paying attention, they remind us how to dream again too.
From The Forge,
Zachary
