We all have illusions and dreams. Some are realistic, others rather not. We all have wants and needs. Some are realistic, others rather not. But first, we need to know what we want. This can go on for years and for many of us it already has and you may be past this step. So that when you finally do settle on an ambition of some sort you are so grateful to feel the desire that you want to hold on to it at all costs, and the thought of heading back to that earlier, more hopeless space is enough to drive you forward.
Be sure the ambition is lofty: why would you settle? And then strive for it. Say, for example, your goal is to be a [insert anything here] writer. Set all sorts of mini-goals along the way and celebrate each post as you pass, though use it only to propel you on to the next one. At first the posts are fairly easy to pass and you run by them with less, but before long the years are going by and the posts seem farther apart, take much longer to get to, and, in fact, there is just a random splattering of them out there, not in a line, maybe some of them hidden or not on your plane of field at all but on some other plane you cannot get to, and you are sick of trying. After all, what is the point, right!?
More years pass and you are wandering the desert alone, picking up rocks, your guide is lost or was never there, your gratitude for feeling desire is waning. What is so great about wanting when what you want is so elusive and in any case why did you want it to begin with? You forget what it was like to not know what you want, and you find yourself drifting back to that space again, although you have come so far, have passed so many posts that you don’t know where you are now, have no courage to go back and to take another direction entirely – why should you if this is what it comes to? Besides, you are so old and tired, right?!
It was nice to have once wanted, you think (though you are fooled), maybe you could just sit down in a grassy field (if you can find one out there, unlikely, maybe some gravel) and reflect on what a fine job you once did, and look up at the sky. Were they illusions? You hadn’t thought so. You could have sworn they were more rugged than that. But it turned out not to be so. A few heavy showers of rain washed them away. A few earthquakes came along and swallowed them. Or, according to my son, a volcano erupted and wiped it all away.