It was the middle of day and bright as if the sun had decided to swallow the Land of Infinite Paths in one goliath gulp. The white-washed houses glistened and lilacs whispered in the wind, who fancied to stroll through the lands at noon. The world bustled with constant, irreversible movement.
To Norma this was supposed to be just another day. She was supposed to sort out maps in the Great Library of Millennial Wisdom. This was her life: a life worth living, a life worth loving, if only she hadn’t a dream. A grand, wondrous dream. Norma harbored it with a gentle and stoic quiet, never truly letting its edges harden. She kept it as an enchanted mist in her heart and let it warm her on particularly frigid evenings. However, on that day, the day the sun shined a little too brightly and the world held a little more magic, Norma was tugged.
“Oh no,” she said, burrowing away in her covers. A tug was never a good sign. It changed lives and not always for the better.
But still, by pure force of nature, Norma pulled herself out of bed, put on her mother’s ring for luck, and ventured out into the moors of the Land of Infinite Paths.
A few days later, she came upon a wall. It wasn’t a small wall one might walk around, oh no, this was a real wall. It stretched for miles to either side and blocked the sun with its colossal height. Norma shrunk in its shadow, having dreaded the tug for this precise reason. There have been tales of people who had followed the tug, only to come upon a wall that they couldn’t surmount. This was because some tugs were false ones, not meant for those people, but still the failure cracked something vital in them and diminished their ambitions to none.
Norma was afraid to end up like them.
Once the fear subsided though and another person scaled the wall, Norma’s doubts faded. If that boy could do it, so could she. And so she climbed, clutching every crevice, using every hold, trying every tactic in the book. But time and time again, Norma kept failing.
Some people, born into wealthy families and gifted with proper tools, reached the top in a matter of minutes. Others, not as fortunate and lacking the tenacity to persist, failed once and turned back. Norma was neither. She kept trying and trying until her fingers were bloody, her heart was ragged, and her ego was bruised.
“You will fall,” the others said.
She kept trying.
“You will fail,” they shouted.
She didn’t give up.
“Go home,” they continued. “This wall is not for your kind.”
At that, she almost gave up, almost turned away from her chance to see where the tug was leading. Almost.
But before she could surrender, a strong, friendly voice said, “Here, let me help you.”
He reached out a hand and she took it. And together they climbed towards a future that held many more walls, but also something undoubtedly more incredible: The Grove of Dreams Come True.
The image does not belong to me.
Follow your dreams, ladies and gentlemen. That’s all there is to it.