There are some days when the dream feels natural.
Those days, my heart beats for my craft. My spirit awakens to the possibility of it all. On those days, I can bunk down in the corner of a coffee shop, steady drip caffeine into my veins, and knock out chapters of a book. Those days, my writing and my hope is alive and vibrant, breathing and responsive.
And then there are other days, where the dream seems more like a cursed nightmare.
Something that’s been placed in my mind as a form of cruel torture; something wanted, far away, but perhaps too far out of reach. Those long, dark days, I struggle. Each word written is a battle, every sentence a small victory. Those days, I write timidly…well, honestly, begrudgingly.
In those moments, what matters most is not opportunity.
What matters most is not skill.
What matters most is not confidence.
What matters most is practice.
The cliche and played out reality is that dreams don’t happen overnight. They don’t come true just because we badly want them to come true. Dreams require hustle and sweat and risk. There are days where the work will matter. Days when the product will attract a response, or garner some attention. Those days will bring us to life and keep us going. Those days will be a bit of a rush.
But, most days, there will be no cheering. There will be no sharing. There will only be the hard work that no one sees. The stuff that artists do behind the stage and away from the gallery that makes them great. Those days will not be fun or magical. Those days are less a rush, and more of a grind. The dream requires our begrudging trudge through the monotony of it all.
Trudge on, friends.
If you’re an artist or a dreamer, know that what you are doing behind the scenes is not wasted. It’s building something. It’s making you into someone irreplaceable. Keep grinding, keep hustling, even when there’s no cheering on the horizon. In the end, it will be worth it.