Good day, my fellow peoples. I must admit, my mood has been… grim as of late.
The reasons for this are numerous. Or, perhaps there is only one reason I continually choose to ignore?
I know the truth, my friends. I know what is wrong, but… you do not. And perhaps you are in a same boat as I.
So, let me back up…
How often do we sit and wait for something that only has a 50/50 chance, (or less), of happening?
We wait, and wait, and our hopes rise and fall like a roller coaster on steroids. Events turn towards our desire, but then pull back away only to return and make our hopes rise, and then back away again. On and on it goes, leaving us in the same place—holding our breath, crossing our fingers, hoping, praying, and wanting so dearly for our desire to come into a full manifestation of what we imagine it will be.
How long does one wait until they give up?
The timing depends on the person. I discovered I am one that holds on and on and on until I am almost dead inside waiting for something to bring me to life. Some special moment that will give my life meaning and help me see clearly the path that my life must take.
Advice has been given. Other options suggested. Words have been exchanged, and fears have been stirred.
I am one who reaches for greater goals. I’ve met few who have dreams as deep and wide as mine, and at first it inspired me. Yet now… now I must ask myself if my dreams are too much.
Time will not stop for me. There is so much I desire to do, but I see time flow past me, trickling through my fingers, and yet it drags me forever forward. Blindly, I fall forward into the future, grasping for some way to stop the rush of time and praying for a way to find my dreams in the mess of chaos and drag them ahead of me to cushion the fall I know I am swiftly approaching.
When will I hit the bottom?
Something has to give.
In physics, it is the lesser force that breaks in the end. And I am certain that I am the lesser force in my desire to accomplish my dreams.
In this match, there is me and my dreams, verse the world and reality.
“The world doesn’t work that way,” I’ve been told.
Why…? Why does it have to be this way? Why do we all have to fit in the mold? What about we dreamers who find it hard to even get a foot in the mold the others call reality? How do we feel when we’re told we’re wrong, but we know no other way?
Dreamers created the things we most hold dear today. How can we say our dreams are not reality? Why would we shut down those who want to be more and to do more than the normal “job, family, sleep,” routine?
Just look around.
Light bulbs. Airplanes. Computers. Cars. Coffee makers.
Dreams, ideas—things brought to life by people who wanted to do more than the average person. To feel trapped because friends and family think you can’t do it is worse than any criticism the world can offer.
If no one stands behind you, then the dreamer falls, and falls, and falls until their inner being is crushed and they lose track of who they are/were. They wonder if reality is best. They wonder if the average life would be smarter, but they can’t fight their dreams.
Down in their soul they can’t fight it, and it torments them like a nightmare. It hangs over their head and they sit up at night, wondering if their dream was worth giving up for a life everyone else seems to also have.
If you’re not going to stand behind us, then I politely ask you to stand aside.
Your criticism hurts more than you know.
So stand aside, and watch what a dreamer can do.
Well… that was directed to people I know, and I am sure you, reader, know people you would like to say that too also.
My problem is, I had a guide leading me. My guide brought me to the places where my dreams could be reached. My guide helped me see what I was and where I could go, and the potential I had deep inside.
I closed my eyes to my guide… I stopped listening to him because I began to doubt my own dreams and my own potential. I felt I had misunderstood my guide, and that I should try to go after my dreams alone. At first it was a slow fade, but then I drifted further from my guide and it dawned on me that I lost track of the path and am now alone in the dark with shattered dreams too heavy to carry alone.
I have not trusted my guide and am now lost in a dark wood of fear and broke pieces of other dreams that were never mine.
I used to be so dearly close to my guide. I walked with him hand-in-hand and sang songs with him as we followed the path through the woods. I do miss those days, but there is one thing I’ve learned in my time on Earth—
You can never go back.
How it once was, it will never be again. Things change, and what my guide bends cannot be unbent by mere mortal hands.
I know my guide is watching and waiting for me to come back. He has me in his sights and he’s protecting me from the evil that desires to snatch me away. He’s always been more loyal than I could ever be. More loyal than any mortal human could dream…
I pray I remember how to walk by my guide without feeling shadowed by my shame of wandering away and leaving the path. I know he’s the only one that can help me. He’s the only one that can let me see past the painful doubt of the people close to me and the world around. Not to mention the doubt I now harbor myself.
I see no clear path without my guide. I don’t see how any of this matters. All my efforts, all my desires—none of it makes sense to me anymore and it all appears useless without my guide shining light on it so I can remember why I chased my dreams in the first place.
Why would I leave my guide?
What did I hope to accomplish by running from the only hand that would be willing to hold mine, even when I am drenched in the sins of this dark world and filled with the doubt that makes even the strongest hearts faint…?
I was created to be strong.
I was given dreams to chase because it would make me happy.
I was made this way to inspire, and to give, and to love with all my heart.
And without my guide… without the faith and trust I need in my Savior… I am nothing but another lost soul sitting in darkness wondering what life is even about.
Meaningless… meaningless… everything is meaningless—a chasing after the wind.
That is my story for you tonight, my peoples. And I say “tonight” because I am writing this and it is nearly 10:00 at night.
Perhaps that is why I ranted so much…
I am weary in every manner of the word. My soul, my body, and my mind—all of me is weak from chasing shadows that deceived me into thinking it was a dream worth chasing.
We all hit walls in our lives.
It takes strong people to get back up, and climb over it.
Just know that you’re not alone. Okay…? I’m there with you.
Good night, my peoples…
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