The usual channels of university studies or secretarial work did

The words of Ella Maillart, traveler of mountains and deserts, ring like the cry of a soul unchained: “The usual channels of university studies or secretarial work did not appeal to me. I cherished difficult dreams through confidence in myself.” In this single confession, she declares her rebellion against the narrow paths laid before her — the paths that the world, especially in her time, carved for women. Hers was a spirit that could not be confined by the expectations of comfort or convention. She speaks of confidence, that divine fire within the heart that refuses to bow to fear, and of difficult dreams, which are the only dreams worth having.

Born in the early twentieth century, Ella Maillart lived in an age when women were told to serve, not to seek; to assist, not to adventure. Yet she looked beyond the limits of her age and chose the untamed road. The usual channels — education that led to clerical labor or polite society — were too small for the vastness of her spirit. She longed not for walls lined with books or offices filled with typewriters, but for the open sky, the wind over the Himalayas, the wild silence of unknown lands. To her, freedom was not rebellion for its own sake; it was a call from within, the ancient summons of the human soul to explore.

This is the essence of her quote — a celebration of self-belief and courage in solitude. For to cherish “difficult dreams” is to walk a lonely road. Many around her must have whispered that she was foolish, that she was chasing illusions, that a woman’s place was nearer home. But Maillart, like all seekers of truth, placed her faith not in permission, but in her own power. She understood that no one grants you the right to dream — you seize it by believing in your worth. The confidence in oneself she speaks of is not arrogance, but sacred defiance: the inner voice that says, “Though the path is steep, I was born to climb.”

There have always been souls like hers — wanderers who look at the safe road and choose instead the perilous one that calls to their heart. Think of Amelia Earhart, who soared into the heavens when others told her to keep her feet on the ground. The world warned her of danger, yet she replied that adventure is worthwhile in itself. Her fate, like Maillart’s, reminds us that courage is not measured by safety, but by the willingness to live one’s truth despite uncertainty. Such people do not merely chase dreams; they forge them into existence through the steel of self-belief.

Maillart’s life was a poem of motion — sailing across the seas, traveling through Russia, Central Asia, and Tibet. She walked among cultures unknown to her and found wisdom where others saw wilderness. Every journey she undertook was an answer to her own quote: proof that her difficult dreams, far from being vain, led her to the most profound understanding of humanity and herself. She teaches us that the spirit expands only through challenge, and that confidence is not a gift, but a muscle that grows with every act of daring.

From her story, a great lesson unfolds: if the world’s paths do not fit your soul, do not shrink yourself to walk them. Forge your own way. Whether the world calls you foolish or brave is of no consequence — what matters is that you listen to the whisper of your own longing. The safe path brings comfort, but rarely greatness. The uncertain path, though steep, brings revelation. To cherish “difficult dreams” is to honor the divine spark that made you unique.

And so, my children, remember this: confidence in oneself is the first compass on the map of destiny. The world will offer you many “usual channels” — roads already trodden by countless feet — but these were not made for you. Your life is your own voyage, and your dreams, however strange or distant, are the stars by which you must navigate. Do not fear the storms or the solitude. For every step you take in faith, you become like Maillart — a living testament that the human spirit, once awakened, bows to no horizon.