I’ve always loved watching films and I can spend a whole day in front of a TV screen or at the cinema, lost in the land of celluloid.  I’ve also always loved reading and have been known to bring a book to a party.  I know, boring and socially awkward doesn’t even begin to describe my teen years.   That however is a story for another day.  Let’s just say, growing up I had two escapes from my dreary life, books and television.  At school I excelled in the arts subjects and failed woefully at anything else.  Which meant that when it came to choosing a career; doctor, accountant or engineer and anything that required maths or science was scratched off the list my father had compiled.  I think I was thirteen when I decided a career as a newsreader would suffice, that was until I stood in front of my classmates during a debate and couldn’t get my words out due to a case of really bad stage fright.  Another career off a short list that was getting shorter and by the time I entered university I still didn’t have a clue what I was going to do with the rest of my life.

My lightbulb moment came in my final year when instead of writing a dissertation I decided to write a screenplay.  However, said screenplay was turned into a radio play because I didn’t have the funds to produce a film.  It was when I sent it to the BBC who then commissioned it for Radio 4 that I knew what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.  But like everyone else on the planet, I ignored that voice because I need a roof over my head, clothes on my back and food in my stomach.  Being a writer was not going to meet my needs.  Or so I thought.

As Maslow’s hierarchy of needs demonstrates, once the most basic needs are met we move onto the next tier and the next until we reach self-actualisation.   A journey of becoming rather than a perfect state of being.  A journey most of us undertake and give up on, the moment we hit an obstacle.  I started the journey of becoming a filmmaker and like everyone who starts a new career, I’ve had to circumnavigate my way around, which has made it challenging to get a foothold to boost myself up.  But one of my many mottos is, if opportunity doesn’t come knocking, then build your own door and walk on through.

My book was rejected by agents and publishers, so I self-published and won the 2008 Commonwealth Writers Prize.  I couldn’t get industry funding to make my feature film, so I made a short film to show my skills as a filmmaker and when that didn’t make waves I made another one.  Whether you’re making a short or a feature or any kind of art, the one thing everyone struggles with, is raising funds, which is why the creative industry is filled with broken dreams.  Once upon a time I had a well paid career that put a roof over my head, food in my stomach and clothes on my back.  My basic needs were met, but inside I had a hunger for more, I wanted to do more and one day the unacknowledged silent voice that inveigled itself into my unconsciousness, suddenly roared and refused to be hushed.  Fear of failure had woven silken tentacles around me and kept me captive for far too long.  But as a good friend said to me, failure is not final, having the balls to pick yourself up and start again is what makes life interesting.

So I’ve picked myself up and I’m waddling along with my zimmer frame. My head is firmly stuck in the clouds and stretched out before me, is the spiked boulevard of broken dreams, patiently waiting for me to fall and never get back up so that it can add my story to those who fell by the wayside and languished in a prison of unfulfilled dreams.  Will I reach that zenith of being?  The self actualisation we all strive for? I don’t know.  What I do know is that I can no longer deny who I am or what I want to do with the rest of my life.  Tomorrow is not guaranteed, so from now on, I will continue to do my thing and put my work out without hesitation or prevarication and let it find its audience.  In the spirit of this new pact, here’s one I made earlier.  Mrs. Bolanle Benson.  Enjoy.