THE JOURNEY BEGINS
The Sign
PRESS START - PRESS START - PRESS START
If I was waiting for a sign, there it is. The green letters scrolling across the display on the microwave could not be less subtle. Sometimes that’s how the universe has to speak to me. No hints allowed. If I’m supposed to do something, I need it spelled out in black and white.
Or green lights placed right in front of my face.
That works.
The Dream
On this snow-laden day, I am staring at the snowdrifts in my front yard and thinking about writing. Writing is my dream. I dream of blogging, of writing stories, of scraping words from my soul for someone else to read, hoping that somewhere out there, someone else will read the words and their soul will resonate with mine.
Maybe that’s what social media does for those who don’t really want to be authors, but still want to reach out and touch someone.
The Direction
I can find innumerable articles on why writers should write, how they should write, when they should write, what they should write. I haven’t found any that focus on dreaming of writing.
I don’t care what anyone says, dreaming is not what it’s cracked up to be. Having a dream is painful. I sometimes wonder how it would be to not have this dream. I could just go to my day job, which is captivating, challenging, and creative, and then come home. I could go outside and play in the snow, spend time with my family, or get back in shape, instead of feeling like I need to join a 12-step group for anonymous writers.
The Destination
For me, though, every day is judged by whether or not I wrote, whether the piece of my soul imprinted on the page that day is worth viewing or not. Whether all this time and energy and agony I’ve spent pursuing my dream and fleeing from it will ever be worth it. But then, I tell myself, if I write, which I do, then I am a writer.
And yet, my dream keeps waving at me from the other side of the glass, beckoning me to come on out and play.
It would follow that simply being a writer is not really my dream. The writing does not matter if no one else reads it. Like an electrical cord that is not connected at both ends, my writing has no true function. The energy that would flow through me goes nowhere, because it has nothing at the far end to draw it forth.
I am looking for a sign. So, rather than pressing on—as I’ve done for this eternity—today, I’m pressing START.
Do you want to take that leap from dreaming to doing? To connect your gifts with the people who need them in a positive, energizing way? What is your dream calling you to do?
