Sitting beside the turbulent creek, Desiree thought about her dream. Her eyes were slowly drawn to the stick, caught near the edge of the bank, where the dark water ran more slowly. Its dream would probably have been to rush headlong downstream to be part of a large body of water instead of stuck in a small pool, going nowhere. 'In a way,' she thought, 'that is what some dreams are like.'
She watched the stick for a few more minutes as it turned in lazy, drifting circles. Her life would be like that if she didn't get out of the rut she had allowed herself to be sucked into. Reaching out, she picked up the stick and threw it back into the centre of the rushing creek. Watching it move towards freedom, she realized something else could delay its progress along the way. Desiree knew that is what can happen to all dreams.
Where had her dream run aground? She felt as if she had lost sight of it; as if the act of living couldn't co-exist with the life of a dream. She had always wanted to be a well-known singer but now, it seemed, she just sang for the enjoyment of her family. Somewhere along the way she had let excuses keep her from achieving her dream.
She watched the water, the small waves persistenly bypassing the large boulders, refusing to be stopped. Small branches and leaves stayed on course, also stubbornly refusing to lose their way, not wishing to find themselves in shallow water. She had let circumstances push her to the side where her dream of becoming a singer became less important than what others wanted. As a result she had ended up in shallow water, going nowhere, like that small stick. It takes courgage, she knew, to stay away from the shore, to move out of your comfort zone and grab opportunities when they came your way. It was only luck if someone picked you up and threw you back into the middle of the stream. It was up to you to get your own life on course.
She took off her shoes and waded into the cool water, letting it froth in foamy bubbles around her ankles. She could feel its life and the pressure of it pushing forward. Like following a dream, the creek was persistently struggling toward success. She had to do that too. She had to stop being afraid.
Fear was her worst enemy. She blamed it on shyness; a lack of confidence, of not wanting to push herself into the public eye, hoping success would land in her lap. She was as good as anyone else who had proven to themselves they could do it.
Stepping out of the water, Desiree reminded herself that life wasn't smooth sailing. It was like the rushing creek finding paths around obstacles. With eddies and whirlpools, it may suck you down into its depths and then spit you to the surfance again but eventually with effort, and perhaps some luck, you'll be able to break free. Avoiding rough patches was difficult but she would find her way around them. She glanced back again at the creek and knew exactly what her first step toward success was going to be. Gathering up her book, she walked away without another backward glance.
To be continued ...
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