Not so long ago I chased my dreams. No more.
We have them, we cherish them, we discard them, and sometimes we realize them.
Set them aside if the decision is made, but otherwise hold them tight. Don’t let them slip away without a thought, the mind directed elsewhere as they fall upon the pavement, disappear into high grass, or tumble into the darkness.
How tragic that a dream should stare in mute despair at a back turned in ignorance.
For me that shall not be. Not for the dream I hold most dear.
My 2000s were a difficult decade…the greatest struggle I’ve endured (okay, the 1970s were a trial, but that’s ancient history). The decade concluded with a grave illness, Hypersensitivity Pneumonitis, that was misdiagnosed for nine crucial months. The doctors who finally discovered it told me I’d likely spend the rest of my life hooked to an oxygen tank, awash in drugs, and living on Social Security.
Week after week in the hospital ensued.
Test after test.
Severe drug reactions…
And still I refused to accept the future they envisioned.
When I was the offered the opportunity to seek further treatment at the finest U.S. respiratory hospital, located in Denver—I went. There, I accepted the most aggressive treatment they offered. At home, I got out of my apartment and walked and walked and walked…
And I started writing again.
There were few who’d ever seen my writing, but in 2011 I started contributing poetry to a writing site. I also dusted off my monstrous Ontyre novel and explored how to make it work. My solution was to turn it into a chronicle, each part spotlighting a different protagonist.
In 2012, Ontyre’s first part, Where Light Devours, took form. I also switched to posting poetry exclusively on my Facebook page. As for my health…I returned to working, and though I suffered a severe relapse late in the year I worked through it until I fully recovered nine months later.
Early in 2013 I completed my novel’s first draft. Too, I started the WordPress blog, initiated my online Ontyre story (Last Word Before Dying), created an author’s page on Facebook (link below), and linked a board on Pinterest to my blog (that link is also below: Ontyre Visions).
And 2013 hasn’t concluded yet.
And ya ain’t seen nothin’ yet!
2014 is already in my sights, for the path I walk is clearing the next ridge. Beyond, I see relocation to Colorado no later than February. It’s time. My vision tells me that my next steps must take place within its borders. Behind me I’ll leave the painful reminders that scream “past.” Too, next year I intend to publish a book of poetry and Where Light Devours. By then Last Word Before Dying will have concluded online and will enter the revision stage. I’ll then begin preliminary work on the third book in the series, The Other Side of the Aperture.
And in the middle of all that I’ll convert my blog to a website (could happen before next year). One benefit is that there’ll be video (yeah, I move and have been known to talk). I’ll also continue to keep my health in check. I’ve seen the face of illness, I know its weaknesses, and I’ll not hesitate to exploit them.
This means I have a lot to do before I set off on my next journey in approximately 4 months. I’ll blog updates as to my progress about once-a-month.
Am I scared? Nah, not me. I’m terrified.
But I’ve faced down my fears before so this will be just one more fear faced. Besides, by my reckoning I’ve cheated death at least four times already. Being a cat person, I figure that leaves me five more lives.
Believe me, I’m not by nature a fearless adventurer, but even when I huddle in a corner crying I’m still holding onto my determination, my hope, and my dreams.
Yes, like everyone I’ve dreams I’ve discarded, lost, and forgotten. I’ve dreams I’ve realized over my lifetime and I cherish those moments.
And, yes, I no longer chase my dreams—for I’m the architect of my dreams.
I will build it and it shall be mine to share.
It’s never too late. Never. That which is desired is on our path if we make a path that leads where we want to go.
This is my path, and on my path there’s a limit to how much I can carry so there’s no room for doubts and second guessing.
They help me not, for I’m traveling light.