“I have spread my dreams under your feet.
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”
― W.B. Yeats
What are we without dreams? Often, I ask myself why I write, why I keep at it even in view of criticism and negative reviews. I know the answer, even when discouragement makes me question myself again and again.
The answer—I write because I have stories to tell, stories that won’t let my mind rest, stories that need to be told. Words have power. And by writing the stories in my head, I bring them to life. Give them power.
Of course, I want to write a bestseller, touch thousands of lives, maybe make them better. What writer doesn’t? But I write because I have to.
We wake, work, do what needs to be done, deal with our responsibilities and obligations, go to sleep at night―some, exhausted. Others, restless, unable to sleep with our busy thoughts or worries keeping us up. And we wake up to do it all another day, and another.
Food, water, exercise and work feed our body, education our mind.
Dreams feed our soul. They are what give rise to music and books. To art.
“Dreams nourish the soul just as food nourishes the body. The pleasure of the search and of adventure feeds our dreams.”
― Paulo Coelho
Without dreams, a soul can wither because there is no hope. What are we without hope but hollow shells?
I wonder sometimes if dreams aren’t what give us courage—the courage to face the hurdles of our lives day after day. I believe even in the hardest times of our lives, we should have dreams, for they give us hope. Hope for a better future.