Rain On Your Own Parade

Don’t let the naysayers squash your dreams.

If had listened to every naysayer in my life, I would never have moved to California, never have married either of my two husbands, never moved to Mendocino, never dated any of the men in my life, never made my job choices, apartment choices, diet choices, shoe choices, and I would definitely never have become a writer.

I guess there’s something to be said for being a rebel because while I’ve alienated my family and friends at times with some decisions I’ve made, at 81 and counting, I wouldn’t take back any of them.

Oh, wait. Those cheap, clunky fake suede housewifey pumps…yeah, I should have listened to my daughter when she gave them a thumbs down.

But other than some questionable fashion decisions along the way, I wouldn’t be the person I am today, someone at least I can live with, if it weren’t for the forks in the road I picked up and the ones I didn’t. For those of you in SRO who’ve never heard of Yogi Berra, look him up.

None of us can get through life without advice from people who’ve been there, done that. So make no mistake, I’m not dissing dispensers of wisdom or the near and dear to us trying to pull us back from a precipice.

We might have seen the end of our species eons ago without them. It’s probably why we love stories about mother cats climbing tall trees to save their kittens out on a limb.

We see ourselves in both the reckless youngster and the rescuing parent.

But we reach a point in life where we have to make choices, reckless or not. We may feel a call from the heart to build a better mousetrap or the next app that will put Paypal or Tinder to shame.

And no sooner will that thought have formed than the naysayers start lining up to give chapter and verse on why that’s the worst idea since someone tried the undercooked bat at an outdoor buffet.

Of the many kinds of people in the world, two types stick out in my mind. People who have dreams and people who don’t. If we could find a way of measuring satisfaction in life, I think the non-dreamers would come out on top.

You can make a good argument for getting through life without the pain of crushed dreams.

But for those of us who have a vision of something we want to create for ourselves, something for which there is no blueprint, no guarantee of success, life is harder if we don’t at least try to take our shot.

Ask me how I know.

On sites such as Medium and many Facebook groups devoted to writing and publishing, you will find people writing articles and blog posts cautioning writers against trying to crack the publishing world.

I use writing as an example because that’s the world I live in, but I’ve also seen pieces advising makers with startups in their eyes to look elsewhere for their daily bread. So, I know the dream crushers exist in every space, as it were. All in the guise of being “realists” or “helpful.”

The only thing I find interesting about these posts is that I’ve been reading the same “news from the front” for about fifty years now.

It’s as if writing a book has always been the pathway to success and celebrity, but all of a sudden, fate has slammed that door closed in the faces of the new generation of writers.

And here comes Suzy Q Downer or Roger Rain-On-Your-Parade with breaking news to tell you why you’ll never find a publisher, or, if you do, your book won’t sell. Or, if you find readers, they will leave such terrible reviews you’ll need a lifetime subscription to a therapy service to get your self-confidence back.

And by the way, if none of this happens, you still won’t make any money.

If I read these pieces, which I don’t anymore, I think the authors have cribbed the insights from the articles I read that tried to dissuade writers in the 1970s and 1980s. And yet, as if by magic, books have been written, published, sold, and read.

So, yeah, probably nobody will read your book, but go write it anyway. Go knock on doors to fund your startup. Figure out how to set up a website and rock your food blog or offer the dog-walking service nobody else has.

Maybe your dream won’t make any money, but that’s not the only point.

Because I can give you chapter and verse on people who had no guarantee anything would come of their dreams, but they figured out a way to do it while still paying the bills.

And they will tell you it’s the best decision of their lives. Especially the dog walker friend who left a good-paying corporate job to do something that gave him real joy.

Because you know what? Failing isn’t the worst thing that can happen to you.

And success isn’t always the best.

We could ask Kobe Bryant about that, a man who reached the pinnacle, but we can’t. Because his life was taken at its peak, or one of them.

Success doesn’t protect you from anything.

But pursuing your dream gives you your life.

I’ve been slogging away at writing for fifty years now. I’m a professional writer because I get paid for my work, but in so many ways, I’m a beginner. I’m always learning. For me, writing is renewal, in so many ways, a fountain of youth. But I’m still not a household word.

Writing is the hardest thing I do, and I’ve done a lot of difficult things.

But as I near the end of my life, having made so many choices to give up security to learn this thing that I love, I wouldn’t change a thing.

That sounds like a cliche, but I’ve dealt with the heartbreaks and heartless business of publishing; to paraphrase one of my teachers, I confront my shortcomings daily as I read a page of my average prose when I yearn to produce brilliance. So many times, hopes for acclaim have eluded me.

And yet.

Working with words is not just about earning a living.

I need and want that, but this calling has helped me know myself. Through learning the exacting craft of writing, I’ve discovered how to articulate my experience to myself so that I understand my life a little better.

In the long run, we need to come to the end of our lives with some understanding of what it’s all been about. It’s a tall order. I won’t know how achievable it is until I get there.

But pursuing the thing that’s most important, even if it doesn’t work out the way we’ve planned, can show us things about ourselves we won’t learn any other way.

It’s the path of dedication and determination, resilience and motivation. Following a dream teaches us how to wrestle with doubt, to muster talents that may have lain dormant, such as time management, when you need to fit writing time into a day filled with family and job commitments.

And maybe most important, when to quit or change course when hitting your head against a brick wall isn’t working.

It’s the way to learn things that are personal to you that none of the folks can know when they tell you to put your dreams aside and get to work making widgets.

But following a call from your deepest self isn’t always about art or a business idea.

I’ve had two marriages that ended in divorce. The people close to me talked themselves blue in the face trying to discourage me from both of them. They saw an end to each of them I couldn’t.

But they also couldn’t see what I needed from those unions. I’m eternally grateful to both of the men I married for gifts they gave me, despite the sad endings to our relationships. I learned things about myself I couldn’t have discovered any other way.

Our choices make up the fabric of our lives. Choosing the path to fulfillment is too often twisted and hidden in the mists of confusion, inexperience, indecision, and, yes, the voices of people who, in the name of good advice, discourage us from reaching for our star.

Better to seek out someone who’ll give you the straight scoop, so you know what you’re in for, but also solid advice on how to get there.

Then tell the naysayers to rain on their own parade.

Thanks Andrew Jazprose Hill for the inspiration. And to everyone who’s ever kept the rain clouds away from my own life.

I’m an editor and writer on Medium with Top Writer status. I’m also an editor for the publication, Rogues Gallery. If you’d like to read more of my work on Medium, click here to sign up for my newsletter. Thank you for reading and stay safe.