a tale of broken dreams and billowing sails
Life is a struggle. It puts up a fight and rarely plays fair. But you can’t let it get the best of you. You have to ride it like a tornado, into the sunset, gripping onto your dreams with all you have…and never let them go.
My father once told me we have to hold onto every bit of happiness we can because life will work hard to take those moments away from us. And although, admittedly, it’s not always easy, I have strived to live by these words, digging every last drop of positive out of all the negative thrown at me along the way.
So I can’t help but wonder what happened to me? When did I become this person who crumbles at the dark clouds? What happened to embracing the rain?
Life happened, that’s what.
For those who don’t write, being a writer may not seem like an important goal. It may appear as if it doesn’t benefit the world at large, or bring anything significant to the masses. But for those of us who do…it isn’t just a lifeless thing we dabble in. It is very literally the first and last breath we take and every breath in between.
Even though I know this with every fiber of my being…little Miss Positive in the face of negative…I listened, instead of sticking my fingers in my ears and humming when I was told to put a deadline on my dreams. So, rather than locking my doors and closing my blinds, I let the negativity walk right in and set up house. And before I knew it, the fight was wrestled out of me while I slept.
I don’t even recognize the person in the mirror anymore. Who are you, and what have you done with the determined, stubborn girl who could argue herself out of just about any situation? Where is the girl who could find the silver lining on every cloud…the prize at the bottom of every Cracker Jack box?
She would have never given up so easily.
The truth is I think I’m still in here…somewhere. I can feel the flicker of light fighting its way through the darkness. Even despair can’t let the air out of my sails…not completely. As long as there is the tiniest gust of wind, I’ll catch it, and I’ll be off. You’ll see. You can’t tell me to give up that which is like the blood flowing through my veins. I may shed a few tears but I won’t do it…not without a fight.
The voices inside me will always fight to be free.
Yeah, I totally sound like a nut job, don’t I? But my fellow writers will surely understand what I’m talking about. Let’s shout it from the rooftops for the world to hear…
A writer is not what I do…it’s who I am.
And you can’t take that away from me. Not ever.
Until the next time…I’ll be dreaming the same dreams with determination.