I suppose for any creative person there is doubt and fear, resolve and excitement. All equal in magnitude with each occasionally tipping the scales and wrecking havoc on the psyche at any given period depending on your level of crazy.
We all have our ‘special moments’, when logic and rational behavior slip through the cracks in our armor. It’s innate for us humans occasionally to go a little nutty. I find the release of energy to be both draining and thought provoking. Once empty of everything I can refocus on the bigger picture—my aspirations and not the other negatives that often plague artist that lurks within.
I am forever reminding myself just having a dream, declaring it to the heavens, and Facebook—equally important on our virtual world—and following through with my dream sets me apart for the person to my right. I think maybe they have a secret desire but are being held back from taking the first step.
I reward myself with an attagirl. Well done, I tell myself. Keep moving forward, woman, don’t dwell in the house of uncertainty. Dreams are just that, some illusive shimmering image of possibility that hovers in the horizon like a mirage at the end of the world.
Why is it hard to follow a dream? Why should it be difficult or even painful? All that is required is to enjoy the moment we are in, and live it, regardless of the hurdles we stumble to get over, or the tall buildings we are meant to leap in a single bound. This is the way it was meant to be—pure pleasure—but it’s not always the case. We get lost in the glitz, the after party, the big huzzah, and we forget, maybe even neglect, the ten-thousand step spiral case we have to climb to reach the pinnacle.
That’s the thing, dreams require work, constant vigilance, tireless pursuit is expected. Life is incidental. It happens around you. Somehow, the bills are paid, the meals are prepared, the children sing gloriously at the Christmas concert and kick the winning field goal, and the boss is over the moon with your latest presentation. The world continues revolving on its axis as you keep churning. There you are toiling away by the light of the moon chasing that damn dream of yours wishing and a ‘hoping that your not wasting your time.
Who’s to say you are or that you’re not? There are no absolutes in this life. In a novel that I just finished writing, Charly, a hesitant Wicca, CEO and the chief baker, of Charly’s Coo-Coo-Ca-Choux Cookies, told me—yes me—on the page I was filling with words.
“Life is full of seemingly opposite and complimentary components. There will always be a hint of sadness in a moment of joy, or a glimmer of hope in despair. “
She wanted me to understand the sphere of duality life is all about, and how light comes from dark. And there is a Yin and Yang. Of course, I know this since I was penning her story, but as the words made their appearance on the page, I stopped writing. I thought about my own dreams and aspirations, my doubt, and those crazy moments I howl to the moon, “Show me the magic. I’m working and damn if I’m not a ‘hoping. Is this dream of mine ever going to materialize?”
I’d like to tell you the moon smiles down on me and zaps me with a little of her lunar goodness, but I can’t. What I can state, with each step up my never-ending spiral staircase, I come a little bit closer.
Keeping faith in your dreams is as tough if not harder than being a mom. Both will try your patience, make you howl to the moon, push you over the edge more than you care to admit even to nearest and dearest, but somewhere over that rainbow, you’ll see the shimmer of chance taking shape.