The Power of Dreams

I don't want to be a lawyer anymore. I want to write; to inspire; to be myself, and not have to pretend. I'm coming back from behind the fog of illness, and I want to mean something. Me and Wellington's army; I'm dreaming, pronounces my inner voice of self doubt.

That inner voice has had much to say recently; it constantly tells me I’m no good, my writing isn’t up to muster, I’ll never amount to anything, life is far too stressful at the moment to focus. How can I come back from such extremes and become someone meaningful? It is too far to travel, and I’m not getting any younger. I have a father with Alzheimer’s and a mother who is struggling – I don’t have time to make anything of myself; I’m selfish for even thinking of it. That voice is relentless and I start to believe it. My circumstances make my dreams stupidity.

I recall the former First Lady of the United States, Eleanor Roosevelt, once said, “The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” Every success story began with a dream. Every gold medal won at London’s 2012 Olympics began with a dream; indeed London’s desire to host the Olympics began with a dream. I recall the euphoria across the whole of Britain when that dream came true; I was proud to be British that day, because somebody dreamed - and then made it happen.

I look at dreams that have been achieved. I look at what has gone into making those gold medals reality. I see unflinching belief, hard work, dedication, sacrifice, overcoming of self doubt, a will to move repeatedly on to the next level – to perform to the limit of your ability, and beyond that of which you thought you were capable.  It's a long climb.

I must hold onto my belief in my dreams, even though it seems to be covered in oil and slipping out of my hands. I once dreamed to be a lawyer; some scoffed, and in return I made it happen – I was too naive to know I wasn’t a lawyer on the inside. I’m intimate with hard work; we’ve spent many long nights together. I can make another dream come true can’t I? I’ve already proved I have what it takes to do it once, so why not again?

I know dreams can be achieved, and those that didn’t try can know for certain that they will never achieve theirs. That is a certainty I can’t bear, and perhaps if I can meet with my dreams in spite of my circumstances I can inspire others in turn; that all is not lost.

I’ve missed something out; something devastatingly important. Olympic athletes have a team behind them – an army. Those that brought the Olympics to London were not alone. How can we mere mortals possibly make this journey alone? We can’t. We need people around us; people with skills; advice; encouragement. Did anyone ever make a successful journey alone? That must have been lonely and excruciatingly hard.

The only way we can make my dreams come true is if we build our own army as we move forwards, searching out soldier by incredible soldier. They will not come to us if we wait for the rest of our lives. It is up to us to make it happen – our dreams are no less important to us than Bradley Wiggins’ dreams of Olympic gold were to him. Why must our dreams falter as his came true? If for you the hard work is a given, you owe it to yourself to try; the odds should be in your favour.

My dreams have the power to take me out of my current circumstances, but it is a long haul. I have to build my dreams brick by brick – I will never get from here to my dreams in one movement. I may have to lay more bricks than many, but it can be done. I must aim for an Empire State Building, and not a bungalow. It will take more time, but it has already been done. I must lay my foundations, deal with my circumstances, start building, and never give up. I’ve already started. I hope to see you on the other side.

Copyright © 2012 C. S. Wimsey. 
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