Very little is accomplished just through wishful thinking. I wish a lot, inspired by the fairy tales I drank in hungrily from Disney movies and fiction. The notion of simply believing in something hard enough would make everything work out, in the end, was a belief sewn into the fabric of my being. If I wanted my happily ever after I had to believe in it. Like really, really hard!
Of course, now I know that wishful thoughts can only be made a reality through lots of sweat and optimism. If you have a dream, you have to put the effort in. You have to be willing to swallow down failure and learn from it. You also have to accept that failure will be more constant companion than your successes worth all the more.
I’m no stranger to failure. I often wear it like a cloak, bearing down on my shoulders as I make my way through the world. It has a bitter tang and weighs on the heart like a damp towel. Despite these feelings, I do believe in my heart that I am better for them. They make me want more. To do more.
But then there’s wishful thinking. A part of me still clings to the idea of a happily ever after but at the current moment, I have no idea what that looks like. There are so many things I want to do with writing, in particular, but I don’t really know where to start. And so I close my eyes and hope that something works out. But I know it never works that way.
And so I’ll offer up this promise to myself. To stop wishing. To simply do. Knowing that some things won’t work out but other things will. Nothing will be done if I don’t muster up the courage to do it.