I thought maybe freelancing would be just like that. Me, in some black corner, making a fist and trying to hold onto the shimmery stuff. My confidence was wavering again. It still does that every now and then.  But, then, all I have to remember is how the idea that I could catch the shimmery stuff became planted into my head…..

Cont. from last Tuesday…

This is true stuff. No fiction- I’m tired of fiction. The first night I had the dream- I made sure to clench my right fist. The next morning, I woke up with palm pressed up against the wall.  I was beyond disappointed that my fist had not obeyed my brain’s request.  I was about to prepare for the day’s pertinent business- primary school and all- when from the corner of my eye, I spotted something glimmering in the morning’s light. It was my right palm- all a-glitter with shimmery stuff.

And so, the idea got stuck in my head that the shimmery stuff did exist and I had not held on as tightly as I should. I promised myself I would try again the next night…and the night after that …and the night after that.  Sure enough, each morning brought me severe disappointment, but the hope was always there and most nights I’d near run to bed with but one motive in mind. 

I kept this up for years, even after discovering that the shimmery stuff on my palm that morning came from my bedroom wall.  Sometimes, I wanted so badly to check my fist immediately after a dream, but was convinced that I couldn't be sure of anything once it was still dark out. So, I just kept trying and trying, because, for some reason, which, was beyond my reasoning at that point, it was a very important exercise.

Now that I’m older and, no doubt, in greater danger of becoming disillusioned by various disappointments, I try to make sense of the importance of that dream and my nightly quest....

As a child, I believed not only in the shimmery stuff, but I also believed that I could transport it across worlds. And, despite the fact that I had not one experience to convince me that the stuff did exist or I could return with it- I believed and kept trying. Perhaps, my ordeal with the shimmery stuff was testament to the level of faith I can be persuaded to have even when all evidence suggest that there is no reason to have faith?

And, did I not need this very sort of faith in this very field of work which can be so very disheartening at times?  It’s nothing less than faith which keeps a Working Girl sane and conscientious when others and circumstances conspire to make her give up on “the system” and humans in general.  And, certainly, it's nothing less than faith which urges a girl, after every mistake and even when she feels so very far from being her best, to keep on attempting to be a better person and reporter....

Coming Next Tuesday: #21- Freelancing- The New Path