There’s something about this time of year that’s positively electric. Maybe it’s the dreams of summer vacation that I never grew out of (thank goodness) or that summer is birthday season or watching the college students I work with put on their graduation gowns like wings and take flight.
Whatever it is, I wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything.
This time of year, I’m reflecting on where I’ve been and daydreaming about the future.
And I beaming from the top of my head to the tips of my toes looking at where I’m standing right now.
This time last year, I watched from my hospital bed as my newborn son failed his second hearing screening. I had no idea what that meant, only that I desperately wanted to fix it for him. (I’m happy to report that he’s babbling nonstop, and his bright blue hearing aids are magnificent.)
This time last year, I was also scrambling to get a rough draft of a book together before the big day. It was a book about happiness and mindfulness for moms, yet I felt miserable while writing it. (I never finished that draft, and it’s one of the best things I ever quit.)
This time two years ago, I was recovering from a miscarriage. I couldn’t string two thoughts together, and I wondered if I would ever stop feeling numb. (With a lot of love, I did.)
This time two years ago, I’d also decided to let go of the blog I’d kept for two years. I felt defeated, lost, and foolish for thinking I could pull something like this off. (Thankfully, I outgrew those thoughts.)
This time four years ago, I had a funny little thought: start a blog. At about a month before my due date with my second child, it wasn’t the right time at all. Besides, I had no idea where to begin, and I hadn’t really written in years – and even then it was research manuscripts. Hardly captivating material. (I started a blog that night anyway.)
The things I’ve learned and the ways I’ve grown, I never saw coming. Except…
Just a few weeks ago, I got a message about my 20-year high school reunion, and I remembered something I haven’t thought about in years.
This time 19 years ago, I graduated from high school. The future was bright, and I believed all things were possible. I guess I hadn’t quite grown out of that (thank goodness). I announced to a friend that I was going to major in psychology and write stacks of books, and we giggled as we planned for my appearance on Oprah. (Who knows?)
A lot of life has happened since then, and a lot of people have tried to talk me out of myself. I grew up, got practical, majored in psychology, and got a job. And all the while, I’d say that the people living their dreams were either the lucky ones or the smart ones. I felt like I was neither.
I forgot all about those dreams I had, except…four years ago, I started a blog.
Who knows where we’ll be or what we’ll say as we look back on the summer of 2018. For now, I know this: you can’t see how far you’ve come or how important each step in the journey was until you look back at your beginning. The twists and turns and dead ends and slow-motion pivots are all part of the road that will get you to where you’re going. So, if it feels like you’re lost or failing, if you’re numb, if you’re not sure what any of this means or how to fix it, and if the journey is taking too long…wait. You haven’t seen the end yet.
And the funny little ideas, false starts, experiments, and awkward steps? Those are what it looks like to begin.
In the spirit of beginning, I have exciting news for you. This summer, I released There, I Might Find Peace. It’s my debut collection of poetry and prose, mantras and meditations for peace, love, and strength. Plus illustrations! It’s a book for people seeking truth, tenderness, and harmony. For restoring your spirit, lighting your own way, and sharing your true gifts with the world. And it’s probably my most favorite thing I’ve written.
Wherever you are today, I sincerely believe that you’ll find your way. There’s a little piece of you that never forgot where you’re going or how to dream (thank goodness!).
Here’s to your yesterday, today, and tomorrow!
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