The Dream That Consumes Me
A Journey Beyond Expectations to Find True Freedom
Once upon a time, I had a dream, the same dream instilled in most of us, to become something great, because anything less would be a failure. But this pursuit comes at a cost, binding us to years, sometimes a lifetime, of financial burdens and mental and physical instability. When we finally achieve it, we are sometimes told it’s not enough. We must keep striving, always chasing the next milestone, because to be content is to be stagnant. Success is measured by constant progress, by proving we can climb ever higher, until the day we retire, only to realize that the pursuit may never truly end.
But if it finally ends, when our employers have granted us retirement, because we are no longer fit to fulfill their needs, many find themselves unable to fully embrace life, their minds dulled by years of routine and their bodies constrained by the toll of time and lifestyle. The passions once postponed remain unfulfilled, and the opportunities once ignored cannot be reclaimed. In our final days, when asked about our greatest regrets and the advice we would offer, the answer is almost always the same, we should have lived more boldly, spent more time with those we love, and pursued our dreams rather than merely existing within the expectations of others.
I've reached a point where I no longer wish to chase expectations or fit into predefined molds. Instead, I want to fully embrace who I am, the strengths, the flaws, the quirks, and everything that makes me unique. I want to live each day with a purpose, not by society’s standards, but by what truly fulfills me. I want to honor the dreams that come from deep within my soul, those that bring me not just success but genuine peace and joy. No longer bound by the need for validation, I choose to walk my path, embracing the life that's meant for me.
I no longer yearn for the highest degree, the prestigious title, or the corporate role that demands my time, energy, and identity, yet offers little in return that truly fulfills me. I no longer wish to dedicate my life to a path that does not align with my values, my passions, or my deeper needs. For too long, I believed I was working toward a noble cause, convinced that my efforts served a greater good. But beneath the surface, I see the truth more often than not, I am merely upholding the agendas of those in power, following a system designed to benefit them, not the people it claims to serve. I refuse to sacrifice my time, my joy, and my sense of purpose for a vision that is not my own. Instead, I choose to carve my path, one that brings meaning, fulfillment, and the freedom to live on my terms.
I dream of being entrusted with a piece of nature, a sacred space to call my own while I walk this earth. A place where the soil is rich and fertile, where a gentle stream or flowing river nourishes the land, and where towering trees whisper in the wind. I long for a home near the forest’s edge, with mountains standing proudly in the distance, their presence a constant reminder of the beauty and strength of the natural world. I imagine waking to the soft rustling of leaves, the distant calls of wildlife, and the quiet acknowledgment of curious creatures who share this land with me. To tend to this sanctuary would be an honor, an extension of myself, where every tree, every bloom, and every stone holds a piece of my heart. I will nurture it, shape it, and cherish it, making it the most beautiful and harmonious home I have ever known.
I feel an undeniable pull to create all the beautiful things that have long tormented my mind visions, that have consumed me for thousands of hours as I watched, learned, and dreamed through the screens of others. My soul aches to bring these ideas to life, to step beyond the role of an observer and finally live the life that calls to me.
More than just creating, I yearn to immerse myself in nature to experience its wonders with all my senses, to surrender to its rhythm, and to find peace in its embrace. There are countless moments I long to live, moments that will make the soul feel truly alive:
Lying under the falling rain with my eyes closed, feeling the heavens bless me with each drop.
*Wandering through the woods beneath a full moon, letting its soft glow recharge my spirit.
*Breathing in the crisp air of winter while sinking into a blanket of untouched snow.
*Tasting the cool, sweet sap of the birch tree as spring awakens the land.
*Wrapping my arms around an ancient tree, whispering gratitude for its strength and wisdom.
*Scattering seeds for the birds and critters, watching them feast in trust and harmony.
*Stretching out on a sun-warmed rock, absorbing the energy that has pulsed through it for centuries.
*Sitting at the edge of a hill, gazing over the vast expanse, trying to grasp the sheer magnificence of nature.
*Wading barefoot through a shallow stream, feeling the smooth stones and cool water cleanse my spirit.
*Gathering wild herbs and flowers, filling my hands with the scent of earth and life.
*Waking before dawn to watch the mist rise from the valley, wrapped in the silence of the waking world.
*Falling asleep to the sound of rustling leaves and distant hoots of an owl, feeling at home.
*When my time on this earth comes to an end, I wish to return to the soil that has given me so much. Let me be buried beneath the roots of a newly planted tree, its branches reaching toward the sky as a symbol of renewal and transition. Let wildflowers bloom all around it so that even in death, I become part of the beauty that has always nourished my soul.
This is what I crave; not just to exist; but to truly live, to breathe in the wild air and let the earth’s rhythm guide my days. I long to be more than just a passerby in nature’s embrace, I want to belong to it, to be part of something greater, something timeless. The call of the land has echoed within me for as long as I can remember, and now, I am finally ready to answer.
When I have accomplished this dream, I hope that those who see me, those who have felt the same longing, the same pull, will be inspired to trust their instincts, to break free from what no longer serves them, and to carve out a life that speaks to their soul. We were not meant to live confined by expectations that do not nourish us. We were meant to create, to explore, to embrace the things that set our hearts on fire.
And so, I turn to the universe, to the forces that guide and shape our paths. I ask humbly and with all my heart, please bless me with the strength, the wisdom, and the opportunities to bring this dream to life. Let my hands shape the land with love, let my spirit find its home beneath the open sky, and let my journey, when I get there, serve as a beacon for those who still hesitate to follow their own.
About the Creator
Nash Georges
An old soul who embraces the power of words and needs an outlet to have a voice. I am delighted to be part of this platform and hope I create a positive impact on those who dare enter my mind. Thank you for reading.
Keep reading
More stories from Nash Georges and writers in Motivation and other communities.
NURTURING THE ESSENCE WITHIN
From my quiet corner of existence, I embarked on a voyage, not across distant lands, but deep within myself. A seeker of truth and wisdom, I've come to understand that the essence of who I am extends far beyond the confines of my body and the chatter of my mind. I am the spirit, the timeless force that dances within, destined to outlive this vessel I inhabit. This revelation has transformed my life into a being of purpose and vitality. Let me share the profound insights I've gathered through my quest, hoping they may also light your path.
By Nash Georges11 months ago in Motivation
Looking back: 2025 was a beast
It's difficult to know how to start this. I've suggested that it's been a tough one from my title and in many ways, it has; however, there is an argument that it's not been that extraordinary at all, merely this wonderful thing we call "life" with all its climaxes and pitfalls.
By Rachel Deeming20 days ago in Motivation
“One Day, I Realized Nobody Was Coming to Save Me—So I Saved Myself”
For the longest time, I believed my life was simply paused. Not broken. Not finished. Just waiting. Waiting for the right moment. Waiting for the right person. Waiting for something—anything—to arrive and change everything. I didn’t know exactly what I was waiting for, but I was sure it would come. People always said things like “It’ll get better” or “Your time will come”, and I clung to those words like promises written in invisible ink. I believed that if I endured long enough, life would eventually reward my patience. So I waited. I waited quietly, because I didn’t want to be a burden. I waited politely, because I didn’t want to seem ungrateful. I waited silently, because I didn’t even know how to explain what was wrong. From the outside, my life looked acceptable. I functioned. I showed up. I smiled when it was expected of me. I laughed at jokes that didn’t reach my heart. I answered “I’m fine” so often that it started to feel like muscle memory. But inside, something was eroding. Every day felt heavier than the last, like I was carrying a weight that kept growing while no one was looking. I woke up tired, went to bed tired, and spent the hours in between pretending I wasn’t. There was a quiet exhaustion that sleep couldn’t touch—a tiredness that came from constantly hoping for relief that never arrived. I thought suffering had to be loud to be real. I thought pain needed witnesses to matter. Mine had neither. There was no dramatic breaking point, no single moment when everything fell apart. Instead, it unraveled slowly. Almost gently. Like a thread pulled so gradually you don’t notice the fabric weakening until it’s too late. I kept telling myself, Just hold on a little longer. Surely someone would notice. Surely someone would step in. Surely life wouldn’t let me keep feeling this way forever. But life did. And then one day—an ordinary day that didn’t announce its importance—I realized something that changed everything. Nobody was coming. That realization didn’t arrive with clarity or relief. It arrived like grief. Heavy. Sharp. Unforgiving. I remember sitting alone, staring at nothing in particular, and feeling the truth settle into my bones. There would be no rescue. No sudden turning point delivered by someone else’s effort. No moment where everything magically aligned and lifted me out of my own life. It wasn’t that people didn’t care. It was that everyone was busy surviving their own storms. I had been waiting for someone to save me from a life that only I was living. And for a while, that realization shattered me. I felt abandoned by the world, betrayed by hope itself. I questioned every prayer I had whispered into the dark, every moment I had chosen patience over action. I wondered if I had misunderstood life completely—if the promises I believed in were never meant for people like me. I mourned the version of myself who thought endurance alone was enough. There is a special kind of loneliness that comes from realizing your pain is invisible. That no matter how heavy it feels to you, the world keeps moving at the same pace. Bills still need to be paid. Responsibilities still demand attention. Smiles are still expected. So I kept going. But something inside me had cracked open. Once you see the truth, you can’t unsee it. And the truth was this: waiting had become my hiding place. Hope, without action, had become an excuse to stay small. I had been standing still, convincing myself that stillness was strength. It wasn’t. Saving myself didn’t begin with confidence. It began with fear. Fear of staying the same. Fear of waking up ten years later in the same emotional place. Fear of realizing that I had wasted my own life waiting for permission to live it. I didn’t suddenly become brave. I became tired of being helpless. The first steps were almost embarrassing in their simplicity. There was nothing poetic about them. No montage-worthy transformation. Just small decisions that felt enormous at the time. Getting out of bed even when my body begged me not to. Choosing one task, then another, then another. Letting myself admit—quietly—that I was not okay. Some days, saving myself meant setting boundaries that made other people uncomfortable. I learned how often my exhaustion came from overextending myself to earn love, approval, or relevance. Saying no felt selfish at first. It felt wrong. But it also felt like oxygen. Other days, saving myself meant sitting alone with my feelings instead of numbing them. No distractions. No pretending. Just honesty. That was harder than any physical effort I had ever made. Facing your own thoughts can feel like standing in front of a mirror that refuses to lie. I began to understand something no one had taught me: healing is not linear, and it is rarely beautiful. It’s messy. Inconsistent. Frustrating. Some days feel like progress, others feel like failure. But both are part of the same road. There were days I missed the comfort of waiting. Waiting meant responsibility belonged to someone else. Taking control meant accepting that my life—every imperfect part of it—was in my hands. That was terrifying. But it was also freeing. As I slowly rebuilt myself, I noticed something else. Not everyone wanted to walk with me into this new version of myself. Some people preferred the me who needed saving. The me who was easier to control, easier to dismiss, easier to define. Outgrowing people hurts. Outgrowing places hurts. Outgrowing old versions of yourself hurts most of all. But staying the same hurts longer. I lost connections I thought were permanent. I stepped away from spaces that no longer fit who I was becoming. Loneliness returned—but this time, it was different. This loneliness felt honest. It didn’t come from abandonment; it came from alignment. I learned that being alone while growing is far healthier than being surrounded while shrinking. Strength, I discovered, isn’t loud. It doesn’t announce itself. It doesn’t demand recognition. Strength shows up quietly, day after day, in the choices you make when no one is watching. It shows up when you keep going even though the results are slow. When you forgive yourself for falling back into old habits. When you choose patience with yourself instead of punishment. There were setbacks—many of them. I stumbled. I doubted myself. I wondered if I was doing everything wrong. But this time, I didn’t collapse and wait for someone else to fix the damage. I picked myself up. Again and again. And something unexpected happened as I kept choosing myself: the world didn’t suddenly become easier, but I became stronger. Problems that once felt unbearable became manageable. Pain that once consumed me became something I could sit with without losing myself. I stopped asking, Why is this happening to me? I started asking, What can I do with what’s happening? That question changed everything. Today, my life is not perfect. I still have days when old fears resurface. I still feel tired sometimes. I still wish things were easier. But I no longer wait for rescue. I trust myself now. I trust that even if things fall apart, I will be there to put them back together. I trust that my worth doesn’t depend on who shows up for me. I trust that I am capable of building a life that feels like my own. And maybe the most important thing I’ve learned is this: realizing nobody is coming to save you is not a sentence. It’s an invitation. An invitation to stop shrinking. An invitation to take responsibility for your healing. An invitation to become the person you’ve been waiting for. If you’re reading this and you feel stuck—if you feel invisible, exhausted, or quietly breaking—I want you to know this: you are not weak for waiting. You were doing the best you could with what you knew. But you don’t have to wait anymore. Sometimes, saving yourself doesn’t mean changing everything. It means choosing yourself once—then choosing yourself again tomorrow. And one day, you’ll look back and realize that the moment nobody came was the moment your life truly began.Start writing...
By Ihtisham Ulhaq5 days ago in Motivation
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.