Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about the idea of a dream and how it manifests; how it evolves in your brain even though it’s core resides in your soul. The way that you see what you desire most, and that is so nearly tangible that it almost feels unattainable. Why is that? Why is it that when we start dreaming of something, it feels like it’s on the other side of a glass wall? Staring at this piece of your heart manifesting in front of you is both mesmerizing and terrifying. Knowing that your dream is a part of a chain of events in the footsteps of your destiny is so rewarding and yet, so overwhelming.
I’ve spent the last three weeks in a room full of people, ranging in age from six to sixty, and I’ve been at the core of a dream. I’ve been sitting in a world where the word dream is a piece of well-known vocabulary, not a far-fetched idea that scares others. I sit in a room of eager minds, awaiting something bigger than themselves, ready to learn. This morning one of my favorite little nuggets got up and crossed a crowded room during a meeting, just so that she could hand me my name tag along with a smile. How amazing is that? She knew the meeting had started and there wasn’t a clear path, but she moved towards me anyways. She had a goal, no matter how small it may have seemed, and she wouldn’t be detoured.
And that got me thinking; when did I start seeing my path through this world as anything other than attainable and unique? When did I put up a glass wall and begin fogging it up with my doubts and worries? I want to chase my dreams with tenacity and excitement. I want to laugh at fear and the idea of failure knowing that those two are inevitable, so why not learn as much as I can along the way? Dreams are not capsules of lost energy meant to drain us of what we desire most; dreams exist in between the intuition of knowing you have a purpose and the idea that you can’t, or don’t. But here’s the thing; I have major anxiety and fear about where I’ll end up, who I’ll end up being, what I’ll end up doing, etc., but that fear is not a part of my dream. In fact, that fear is a part of my path. That fear drives me to say, “I love you,” on a daily basis. That fear allowed me to stand up and decide that what I wanted was more important than the idea that I wasn’t worthy. It’s the kind of fear that makes me vulnerable, open, and welcoming to everything and everyone I encounter. Perhaps I process loss and failure more intensely than some, but I also experience love and joy on a level that will one day make much more sense.
So here I am, still looking at my dreams through a glass wall, watching as they manifest and change in ways that I cannot control. That’s scary. Hell, that’s terrifying. But beyond that glass wall is a girl with eyes that can see the way that joy and sadness are intertwined. She has a mind filled with books, magic, and questions. Her hands do not shake when she hears the word, “No”. In fact, they reach out, because they know that a “yes” is around the corner. She still fears and hopes and dreams with a vulnerable heart, but she knows that vulnerability is a strength.
Maybe some of our dreams will never quite manifest the way we want them to right now. And perhaps we will fall down eight times, only to get up nine. But hold on to that nine. Hold on to the fact that you cannot control every aspect of your dream, and thank the universe for conspiring in your favor to bring you what you hadn’t even seen yet. If I have learned anything in the last few weeks, it is that the ways in which we grow are based on far more than chance. Say yes to what scares you occasionally, and I guarantee you’ll discover far more than you could have imagined. Each day is filled with tiny trinkets of what is yet to come. Study them, hold them, and then finally, let them go so that they may eventually come back as the whole they were meant to be.
Dear Girl, 