Metaphor of my life?

I'm shoveling, a mountain of soil into a lake to build a city. There's still quite a bit of not composted items left in the soil so I have to sift through it all. It takes time.
Sometimes I feel like I'll never get all the not composted items out of my soil,
other times I lose faith that I will build my city and
even worse, sometimes I disbelieve that anyone should ever visit my future city at all.
I get caught up in my mind asking myself questions like:
"Why am I do this?"
...
"Am I actually building anything yet?
...
"Do I really want to be filling in this lake to make a city?"
...
But every night I dream of my future city and see it in all of it's glory
So I keep shoveling.
Then sometimes the earth decides it has other plans for that part of the lake
and there's an avalanche.
I get covered in dirt and have to dig myself out.

But I think that's just part of building a city,
well, I hope so, anyway.

I have the base level filled in now and its mostly secure,
no more newly placed land breaking off and into the water.
I'm starting to really be able to see my dreams come to life;
the outlines of buildings, the foundation of roads, the idea of big parks.
It's all coming together.

But it's really just a flat piece of land right now.
And I'm the only one shoveling.
It has to be this way
because otherwise it becomes someone else's city and not mine.

And I'm not even sure what city I'm building yet,
I've only figured out the touristy spots.

[First draft]