Work Grind, writing

Passing Clouds

Do you ever feel like the things you want to do in life are just passing dreams? Like no matter how you reach for them, no matter how hard you hold on to them they slip right through your fingers? It’s like trying to hold a passing cloud.

And until I do something that’s what they’ll remain, just dreams with no substance, no weight. Just pretty fluffy things floating far above what I can reach.

But sometimes they turn grey and heavy and it rains. These pretty fluffy dreams turn into ugly thunder clouds, reminding me how stupid these ideas are and how unachievable they are. And instead of seeking cover I’ll stand in the rain, I’ll let the thunder shake the ground I’m on. I’ll stay out there until I’m soaked, until I’m cold and desperate to give up these dreams. Then the clouds lighten, the rain stops, the darkness and the grey fades. The dreams turn back into something I want, something I need.

Getting soaked in the rain is easy, finding shelter to wait out the storm is harder.

And they keep passing by, those pretty fluffy things.

And I know how to fix it. I know I just need to sit my ass down and figure it out. Just spend a few hours cranking out some ideas and plans and make it happen. Grind, hustle, or what ever you want to call it. I know what I need to do. The hard part is actually doing the work. The hard part is actually sitting down and forcing myself to feel motivated. Forcing myself to not stand in the rain and seek cover, wait for the dreams to be fluffy and white again. Not let the dark, grey, angry clouds fog my thoughts and tell me I’m stupid for wanting the fluffy pretty things.

It’s hard though.

It’s hard to dig yourself out of a hole, hard tell yourself that these aren’t stupid dreams with no plans. It’s hard to stop the routine of wake, work, home, sleep. It’s hard to put in more effort, hard to be better than who you were yesterday, hard to rise and grind and stay up late. It’s hard to tell yourself that yes, you can do it. That these are not stupid dreams, that they have substance and are not just some fantasy version of yourself.

It’s hard to get to the places you want to get to.

It’s harder to keep wishing for these things. It’s harder to not do these things than it is to do them.

I don’t want to have to live with not having done it. Or at least not having tried it.

So I keep pecking away, not really progressing, not really falling behind. I work on things a little then tell myself I could do more, I could be better and feel worse when I don’t. Sometimes, a lot of times, I find myself standing in the rain again, getting soaked, knowing that the dreams will be pretty and fluffy again, just not knowing when that will be. So I’ll stand in the rain, let my brain tell me that my dreams are stupid, unrealistic, a mere fantasy for the life I want.

And when the sky lightens and the rain stops, maybe I’ll figure out a way to catch a cloud.

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