Fight For Your Dreams – Hold On Even When Your Hands Bleed

Fight For Your Dreams

You would encounter sharp rocks jutting out of every mountain you wish to climb. Through my perseverant journey as a new writer, let me show why you have to go on even if your hands bleed. Never give up. Fight for your dreams. It is the only way to succeed. 

The Beginning: believing in your dreams

You start. You are exhilarated. You shriek at the top of your voice from the roof of your confidence. You laugh from your stomach. You give long motivational speeches to your friends about how they need to start living. You wake up singing a tune praising the morning sunshine. You look forward to Mondays because life has taken a route you could only dream about.

People say you are inspiring. They applaud you. Your friends like and share everything you post. They read everything you write. Some of them even help you correct the grammar. You are glad as getting set right by friends is better than being ridiculed by unfamiliar readers.

You don’t worry about the money, yet, as the savings save you. Your family is appalled by your decision. But they don’t say anything this time. The last time they did, their words dug a deep valley between you two.

Your Mac is your new Nietzsche. All your philosophy seems to pour out of it.

Every rising sun,

every golden hour,

every dark cloud,

every rain shower,

every kite,

every red hue of the night,

every gulmohar leaf,

every white hibiscus on the beach,

every kingfisher perched on the electric wire,

every dead rat on the street,

every lake,

every city,

every mosque, temple, and church,

every friend and his or her word,

every act of generosity,

every act of indifference,

every wedding,

every lay-off,

every lesson learned,

every thought redeemed,

every moment of depression,

every moment of elevation,

all seem to inspire you to write.

How can you not write? This is what you chose. This is what you were craving. This is what you were denied.

You write long motivational posts about what you have learned. They are so rich in experience and love and motivation and fearlessness and meaning that people applaud them.

You are finally chasing your dreams.

The Middle: holding tight onto your dreams but it seems to be getting harder

But then fewer friends read what you write. Even lesser comment. They don’t have time to fix your grammar. Your family still doesn’t say anything but hints at the lack of your achievements.

You wake up wondering how would the day go. You have forgotten the sunshine song. You scroll your phone to see if the publisher replied. If the guest post got accepted. If the article got any likes.

You forget the idea from last night which you wanted to elaborate on today. You missed the morning running session as you couldn’t sleep well.

Nature stands still. Even the cool breeze has settled down for the hour. The kingfisher hasn’t shown up for days. The white hibiscuses were picked by the devotee and offered to her god. Each thought sinks you. Each golden hour is a reminder of what you didn’t do that day.

Slowly the golden cloud of being different and fearless has floated away. You feel alone. When you started going after your dreams, you were in the limelight. Now you are almost a forgotten story. When you started, you had no expectations from yourself. Now you know what others have done and what you can do, too. You have read about it all.

You feel drawn into the fear of losing it all. Into the fear of being subjected to laughter. See, she had started this fancy career; she said she was an itinerant writer. Look at her now. What has she done? You hear these unspoken comments. You look in the mirror. You ponder if you would be able to do it.

You fret. You sweat. You fumble.

The Beginning Before the Beginning: when you hadn’t even started dreaming

What you forget in these moments is that you have always been fearless.

Remember when you were a little girl. Your father used to drive the Bajaj Chetak scooter. He drove it to the shop and rode it back to the house. Every evening you waited for him. As soon as he climbed up the stairs, you stuttered out some words in your language and then wailed. Your parents understood.

You craved to ride the scooter with your father. You wept until he took you out.

Your parents gave in to your perseverance. Your father carried you downstairs and placed you in the leg space of his scooter. You were only 7–8 months old so you couldn’t stand. You sat. You finally wiped your tears. He started the scooter, and as the scooter cried broom-broom, you smiled. He then drove on the street outside your house for ten minutes. You looked around. You laughed and laughed and laughed. As if you were waiting for that ride the whole day.

Your parents say you were stubborn. They say you could not even stand, but you were not scared.

Think of that girl. Weren’t you her?

From where have you accumulated all these fears now? Fears are baseless, even the little girl knew that. She had faith. She believed in her father and in the universe and herself.

Laugh like that little girl again. Look at the world with those inquisitive eyes. Fight until you get what you want.

The Reality

You are going through a phase. When you think the limelight is fading away and fear and rejection are riding high, look around. A lot has changed since you started. You knew nothing then. Now you understand a lot more. But don’t be intimidated by that knowledge and the success of people around you. Use them to guide your path. That is what they are for.

You knew you were losing your life. So you chose this path. First, you trode fearlessly. Now you are scared when you have climbed up so much already. This is your fear speaking. These apprehensions say nothing about your work. About your efforts. About the results. It is too soon. And if you are dedicated, you put in enough time, and go on fearlessly towards your goals, you would not have to even think about any of these things.

Do you know what is happening to you?

You are scratching your way up the protruding rocks of the mountain. You can neither see the summit nor the base.

When you look down, you only see the vast open pasture. You cannot see how steep you climbed up, how far you have come.

When you look up, you see the open sky. But you have no idea when you would reach the summit. When you would get something to hold onto.

You are hanging from these rocks that seem to block your way. You are holding onto them desperately. You feel you are hardly moving up. You grasp a slender branch of a young tree. But you can’t lift your weight on its fragile strength. Your hands and knees and feet are scratched. The sun is glowering hard at you. You are hungry, thirsty, and tired.

You want to give up. You wonder if there is any point in even trying. That you would soon fall. That you would never reach the top. You gauge and weigh everything you do. Would sticking your right feet to the mountain help? Is pushing yourself up with your knee a good idea? Would breathing deeply and resting a moment bring upon your doom?

What you don’t see is you have come very far. That the summit is not near, but there is a resting space, a flat stone, only a few meters away. That if you relax, even if for a minute, you would regain the strength to keep climbing. That the sun is going down in half an hour. That the ones who are on the top and are echoing the world with their words also took the same route. They also thought the way you are thinking. They also had doubts.

Did you know: moving despite fears is self-growth and success comes with fun

Onwards: don’t give up on your dreams, hold on

The only difference between them and you could be that they didn’t give up.

Now it is up to you.

Do you want to be the one who tried but didn’t make it? (Follow these 12 principles to succeed in life.)

Or the one who was fearless and held on until her hands bled?

Let the only difference between them and you be that you did it your way.

Do you want to chase your dreams? What is stopping you? Tell me!

Read Next: 21 books to change your life + Jonathan Livingston Seagull by Richard Bach: a seagull who took a flight unknown to its tribe, made her own trajectory, and reached undefined heights

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