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Hopes And Dreams
I am the printer guy. I arrive when needed, to clear a paper jam or replace a toner. I can map you to your printer or give you a hand setting up that scan folder, nothing earth shattering. It’s a job and it pays the bills, most of them anyway.
But even the printer guy has a dream. You see, when I’m not cleaning toner out of my clothes, I’m listening. I listen to the daily droning and buzzing within the cubicles. Just as those printers churn out page after page, I am writing. I’m putting together words and sentences that I hope will become ink on the pages held inside of those printers.
I will become a Shepherd, corralling the herds of paragraphs into stables where they can be fed and nurtured until they are ready to be released, at which point we will travel together through the plains and valleys towards the mountains in the distance. We will climb the peaks, ascending the mountain with a slow and steady climb. Curling and winding, the desolate road carves into the range and demands my energy . My steps are measured, requiring patience and discipline in order to fully appreciate the journey. I keep in mind that only through the grueling labor will I reach the summit. It won't be easy, and for that I am thankful.
There will be many doubts along the way, at overlooks and passes I will tell myself that I have done enough. Longing for gratification, I will second guess my direction and efforts and want to head back down to the safety below. But I won’t. I will continue, I will stumble and crawl towards the top, immune to the dangers above. I will refuse to surrender my dream. I will arrive, and when I do I will stand at the cliff with my chest heaving, tired from the journey but in absolute awe of the accomplishment.
Then I will leap. I will close my eyes and jump from the ledge with the confidence of those words, full of faith that is as real as the wind in my hair, rippling through my clothes as I spread my arms like wings.. And just when I am comfortable in my free fall, when I like what I see on the page, I will pull the cord, no, I will remove the parachute. And then I will fly.
I have the resolve to learn my craft, during every idle snippet of the day and every stolen moment of the night. I will read, taking in the words of those before me, those who have ascended the mountain and lived to tell. And when I am not reading or writing, I will be plotting, piecing together conflicts with every waking breath. Gathering, storing, and experimenting with what works. I will jot down a word that makes me smile, or a phrase that I hear in passing. I will write as a man, as a woman, as a child, a dog, even a printer.
And when all of the scribbling and jotting become characters and conflicts, when the passion and practice fuse together like the ink on the page inside of those printers that I fix, the words will become alive. And so will I. Just like the printer I will put words on paper. I will become a storyteller. I will become writer guy. I will become…..an author.