The Wannabe Struggle

Lately, I have not bought into my own advice.

I am an advocate of chasing dreams, maintaining hope, and persevering despite current circumstances, but I have been in a funk since my last blog post. I found myself wanting to have a career as a writer more than I wanted air. My heart ached every morning as I placed my feet on my bedroom floor to begin a day and a life that did not correlate with the dreams I had just a few years ago as a teenager.

I felt like a failure, and my excessively rough work days were doing a number to my self esteem.

Yesterday, I was reading some of my favorite poetry and I ran across the late, great Langston Hughes. One of the greats of the Harlem Renaissance movement, I have always admired and adored every written word associated with him. I read the following poem by him (all rights reserved to the owner):

A Dream Deferred

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore-- And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

I took a look at my dream: to be a writer for a living. Was my dream truly deferred, or was it just taking time to manifest. I realized the latter was true. No, I was not there yet, but because I blog, write poetry, and do some freelance writing, I had not let my dream die. It was simply beginning to grow.

But, the more I focus my energy on what I have not accomplished and my dissatisfaction career-wise, my dream would suffocate and die amidst anger, frustration, and self-doubt.

We need to give ourselves credit for the small victories in life. No, we may not have the big prize yet, but every step forward is commendable!

Love Poetry,

-T. Amour