I have never worked harder in my life to pursue my dreams and there are several that I am sweating and constructing.
I want to become a successful published author by becoming a member of the New York Times best sellers list, or something similar on our Canadian soil.
I want to become a great motivational speaker, inspiring others to live out their dreams and avoid lives of quiet desperations.
In the shortest reasonable timeline, I want to be able to leave teaching, so I can devote more time to write, speak, and travel. I have vivid and awesome visions of my very own state of the art commercial photography studio. I want to share this space with other artists and host art evenings, as well as open the studio to other talented photographers, and give them the means to make great art.
My vision is clear. I can see it all.
What stands between me and my dreams however is my daily work; the daily grind of getting done what needs to be done.
I have been faithful. I think. Not perfect, but faithful.
I wake up early in the morning, when the world is still napping, and I begin my weight training.
I have cleaned up my diet considerably, although probably a little more tightening is in order.
I don’t watch television. I don’t even listen to that much music or talk radio anymore, especially on my morning drive into work. I have replaced it all with various motivational talks on audible.com, along with selected podcasts that have caught my attention; Malcolm Gladwell and Tim Ferris, in particular.
This week, I got sick.
I have a sore throat. I feel off. I feel tired. I don’t know what to do with myself.
My mind is clear. My body, not so much.
I have decided to rest this week, but somewhere in the back of my mind I realize that I am worried that if I slow down, this will all stop. The fear is real and justified, because that is exactly how my life has played out in the past. I hit a good stride and eventually a cold, or an unforeseen disappointment slows me down.
Old habits return.
Like gross and overgrown weeds, they once again begin to choke any progress I have made.
Yesterday, I realized that I would be alright.
Yesterday was the day that God smiled back.
A few months ago, I placed an ad in the Legion Magazine, asking if any War Veterans would be willing to share their stories with me. This is a book, I was meant to write, and since God is smiling upon me, I think I am on my way.
I came home and received a package from a Veteran of WWII. He wrote me a beautiful letter, and enclosed the story of his life that he had already written. He has given me permission to use any of the content and to reach out to him if I need anything else.
You have no idea how much joy this brought to my heart. I was searching for something. A little sliver of sunshine. A tiny ray of light, and here it was, impressing itself on my hands.
Later on, I received a wonderful email from a Vietnam veteran who shared his book with me as well, and told me I am free to use any of those stories as well. He also, gave me his contact information, and is open to sitting and talking with me.
I am a man of faith. I keep my mouth shut on most occasions, because I despise religious zealots and hypocrites. My faith is so precious to me, that I keep it secure, deep down, deep within the very core of my being.
This morning, I am grateful that God smiled back.
I am filled with gratitude and a renewed sense of abundance.
There is work to be done.
Time to go back to digging my ditch.
