However, did your past dream accurately anticipate your current reality? Mine didn’t. One example involves Handel’s Messiah.

I once yearned to conduct a large choir, big orchestra, and professional soloists in Messiah, basically recreating the experiences I’d had as a singer. I had trouble convincing my choir’s board to invest in a high-budget concert, but Messiah felt like a safe bet to everyone. As rehearsals progressed that fall, I imagined the thrill of my first grand holiday performance. Then reality hit: on the day of the show, an ice storm wreaked havoc. The venue was two hours away, and our bus arrived late, carrying an exhausted and terrified group of performers. We finally took the stage—to an audience of six people. That was not my dream, but it was definitely my reality.

Frankly, I find Messiah boring, and I chose it mainly to satisfy my ego. Even though our second performance drew a big crowd (which was fun), it didn’t match the joy I’ve felt conducting music I truly love for smaller ensembles. That’s why it’s vital to recognize your current dream of a “professional singer’s life” may be missing some unglamorous details.

When I see a friend from college who works as a musical director on Broadway, I admit I’m sometimes jealous. At the same time, I know that I get bored after a show has run for a couple of weeks, and I can’t imagine repeating the same music daily for years. I’ve never asked my friend, but he might find it frustrating to work with inexperienced or amateur singers. Society needs both types of jobs filled. The key is to figure out which one makes sense for you. That requires recognizing the forces that might be giving you false impressions and unrealistic expectations.