Dream 77 and Hanuman: Keeping a Meaningful Goal After Disappointment

The exhibition list is out, and our name is missing. For weeks, we imagined the neighbourhood sketches hanging in a public room, with people stopping to recognise a lane or a familiar shopfront. Now even opening the sketchbook feels different. In our Dream 77 reflection at Ishta Mel, we remember Hanuman and ask how to hold a meaningful goal after a hoped-for route disappoints us. We need room for the hurt and enough perspective to decide what still deserves our effort.

Let the disappointment be specific

A setback can spread quickly through our language. “These drawings were not selected” becomes “My work has no value,” then “There is no point continuing.” Each sentence reaches further than the information we have. Naming the actual disappointment helps us see its boundaries: a particular opportunity did not work out, and we had cared about it deeply.

We can also acknowledge what we had hoped the opportunity would provide. Perhaps it was an audience, a sense of belonging or recognition after working alone. Losing that imagined moment can hurt even when the work itself remains available. We do not need to rush into a cheerful interpretation before recognising the loss of an expectation that had become important to us.

In remembering Hanuman, we can seek courage to remain honest in this uncomfortable space. We can say, “I am disappointed, and I am not ready to make a final decision about the work today.” That sentence creates some distance between the feeling and a decision to abandon everything. It allows us to return when the immediate sharpness has eased.

Separate the purpose from the doorway

The exhibition was one doorway into a larger hope. To understand that hope, we can ask what drew us to the sketches before the selection announcement existed. Perhaps we wanted to observe ordinary places carefully and preserve details that people pass every day. Perhaps we wanted to become able to communicate affection for our neighbourhood through drawing.

That purpose can remain meaningful even though this particular doorway is closed. It gives us a reason to examine other routes. The question becomes how to keep developing the work and bring it into an appropriate conversation with others. A public exhibition may still be one possibility, but the original application no longer has to carry the entire meaning of the dream.

We should be honest if recognition was part of the wish. Wanting our effort to be seen is understandable. We can hold that wish alongside the value of making the work itself. This broader account of our goal gives us more than one way to recognise meaningful activity while we decide how to seek an audience again.

Find out what the decision actually tells us

If the selection process offers comments, we can read them after the first disappointment settles. They may identify something useful about the submitted work or simply explain the limits of that particular event. If there are no comments, we should be careful about supplying a harsh explanation from our imagination. A missing name does not provide a detailed assessment of every ability we possess.

We can seek a separate, focused view of the drawings from someone able and willing to discuss them. Instead of asking, “Am I any good?” we might ask whether the scenes are clear, which details hold attention and where the intended feeling becomes difficult to understand. These questions produce something we can work with. They turn a broad anxiety into a discussion about particular pieces.

For our Dream 77 reflection, the distinction matters: we are learning from available evidence while keeping uncertainty in its proper place. A useful criticism may change the next drawing. An unexplained selection decision may tell us very little about how to improve. We can respond differently to these two kinds of information without pretending that either one feels pleasant.

Choose another route with honest trade-offs

A revised route should fit both the purpose and our present circumstances. We might develop a smaller set of drawings, show it to a few people familiar with the places and ask what they recognise. We might approach a suitable local group about a modest display when the work is ready. Or we might spend a period improving the pieces before seeking another public opportunity.

Each choice offers something and asks something. A small conversation may provide close attention without the visibility we had hoped for. Further practice may strengthen the work while delaying the experience of sharing it. We can choose knowingly rather than treating every alternative as an equally exciting replacement for what we lost. A worthwhile route can begin with mixed feelings.

It helps to define a commitment that belongs to the revised route. For example, we could prepare three drawings for a thoughtful review by an agreed date. The commitment is concrete enough to act on and closely connected to the larger purpose. It gives the next few weeks a direction without making another distant selection the only measure of whether the work matters.

Carry the value forward without forcing the old picture

As we continue, the dream itself may become more accurate. We might discover that conversations with people who know the neighbourhood bring a kind of meaning we had not expected. We might also find that we still want a public exhibition, now with a clearer understanding of the work and the patience it requires. Either discovery can inform the next choice.

Keeping a goal does not require us to defend every detail of its first imagined form. It asks us to recognise which value we want to carry forward and whether our chosen actions still serve it. If circumstances or priorities change more deeply, we can reconsider those too. Our loyalty belongs to a meaningful purpose that we understand, rather than to a picture we are afraid to revise.

At Ishta Mel, we seek Hanuman's blessings for the strength to continue thoughtfully after disappointment. Dream 77 gives us a way to ask what remains worth making when one hoped-for occasion has passed. The exhibition list can be put away. When we open the sketchbook again, the familiar lane is still there, waiting for the careful attention that first made us want to draw it.