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I have recently been pondering this website that I have created.  It occurred to me that one day it did not exist and then the next day it did.  Okay, it didn’t really happen quite that fast.  I spent a fair amount of time researching how to create a website, determining which platform to use, figuring out how to get hosting, etc.  But before I sat down and actually did all of the work it was only a dream of mine.  The website itself did not exist. 

This leap from nothing to something started to make me wonder about what else might be possible.  I am currently in the process of writing several children’s books.  Right now they only exist on a jump drive and in my imagination but I have tons of ideas for illustrations and I am researching how to publish them.  Sure, there is plenty of work to be done before they will become actual books but there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that they will eventually exist in the material world. 

Think about the world we live in, everything that we have, everything that surrounds us.  At one time none of it existed.  Every single thing we have was an idea first.  Every. Single. Thing.  There was an idea for a lightbulb long before a lightbulb was created through experiments and hard work.

Thoughts can become things.  If we can think it we can do it.  Clearly just thinking about something does not make it a reality.  It takes determination and hard work to create something.  But first, it takes thought.  A dream.  An idea.  It also takes a big dose of belief.  A belief that your vision is possible and that you will succeed. 

We need vision and belief because our dreams are fragile and can easily be broken.  Hold them tight and guard them because they can be squelched all too quickly.  People will tell you that your dream is impossible.  They are wrong.  People will tell you that your idea has been done before.  I say that if it hasn’t been done by you then, no, it hasn’t been done before.  Each of us adds our own special touch and uniqueness to an idea that no one else can duplicate. People will tell you many things; that that market is flooded, that the time has passed, that too many people are already doing it. I have been told that it’s nearly impossible to get a book published.  That is probably true.  It is nearly impossible.  The keyword here is “nearly”.  The definition of nearly is: very close to; almost. 

However, it is the “very close” and the “almost” that keeps me going.  Those words provide the crack in the not-quite-closed-door, the foothold on the mountainside.  That tiny space exists to be filled.  That open niche enables us to keep our dream alive because that small space is where hope lives. That small space is where faith lives.

So how do you view that dream that you are reaching for?  Do you see abundance or scarcity when you think about achieving it?  Do you see the market as flooded or do you see opportunity?

I am fortunate that I was born an optimist. My glass has always been half full.  I don’t know how to live my life any other way and I am eternally grateful for this.  When I look at the world I see abundance.  I see it surrounding me every day.  It is everywhere I look. 

Wayne Dyer was right when he said, “When we change the way we look at things, the things we look at change.” When we change the way we see the world and when we search for only the good in things and the positive in people then that is what we will find. 

As a writer, I don’t see a market flooded with books.  I see a market flooded with readers.  I see abundance and opportunity so much that I know if I continue to work hard toward my dream with unrelenting belief and faith then I can trust that I am nearly there.

Once upon a time, some twenty-odd years ago, we were looking for a rescue dog when we came across this flyer:

ENERGETIC 9 MONTH OLD LAB NEEDS A GOOD HOME; GREAT WITH KIDS; NAME: BISCUIT.   

The description along with a photo of a beautiful black Lab prompted me to call and see if the dog was still available.  The owner assured me that he was so I went that evening to see about adopting him not knowing that the word “energetic” would later prove to be an understatement.

It turned out that the owner had been caring for Biscuit since a friend could no longer keep him.  She explained that Biscuit had been living in a car for several months prior.  I couldn’t imagine this 70 lb. dog living in a car or even a bus for that matter, so I decided to take him home that night. I was so excited about our new dog that I barely noticed the owner’s overwhelming sense of relief as she quickly handed me his leash and tennis ball while ushering me out the front door.  From the porch, she gave me a quick wave good-bye and then hastily darted inside, shut the door and turned out the lights.

I arrived home early that evening with Biscuit.  After some discussion and a few protests from our 3 year old we renamed him Duke.  This was on a Thursday night.  Thursday night happened to be grocery night at our house and typically the entire family went together.  This left us in somewhat of a quandary as to what we should do with our new dog.  We certainly didn’t have a crate large enough for him yet and the idea of leaving him home alone was less than appealing.  At last, we decided we would take him along with us to the grocery.  We decided that if he were to cause any damage that the car would be a better place than our house.  Besides, we reasoned, he had been living in a car for quite some time already and would probably be very comfortable there.

Once inside the grocery store, we shopped as quickly as we could.  The entire time we were wondering if we would still have a steering wheel when we got back to the minivan.  Visions of shredded seats filled my head as we approached the van with our load of groceries and children in tow.  Amazingly enough, the van was completely intact and Duke (a.k.a. Biscuit) was quietly sitting in the back seat.   This was going much better than I had anticipated!  I loaded the children into the van while my husband opened the liftgate.  He and the bag boy proceeded to pile the groceries in the back.  Duke calmly watched until the last bag was loaded.  Then, just as my husband was closing the liftgate, Duke sprang like a gazelle from the back seat soaring neatly through the air and landing some distance from the van!

“Come here Duke!  Come here Biscuit!” we shouted as he darted in between shopping carts and cars.  My husband and the bag boy began to chase after him.  He was super fast!  (The dog, not my husband!)  He ran several laps around the parking lot amidst startled shoppers and aggravated drivers.  People called out to us and tried to nab him on his way by.  Drivers honked their horns and yelled.  After nearly ten minutes of utter chaos, Duke seemed to slow down a little and we thought we had a chance at catching him.  He approached the entrance to the grocery store and then, upon seeing my husband closing in, he stepped on the automatic door opener and ran inside!  Confused by the lights and people, he raced quickly back out the exit door on the other side of the store.  After another ten minutes or so of chasing and yelling, my husband informed the bag boy that he was done. He was exhausted and angry and calling it quits.  We were giving up and going home without the dog! 

Ironically, as my husband turned and started toward the car, the dog began to follow him.  My husband sped up.  The dog sped up!  Before my husband could make it back to the van Duke raced past him and jumped into the back seat.   He turned around, settled himself in and looked at my husband as if to say, “What are we waiting on? Are we going home or what?” The parking lot fiasco was finally over!

Thus began a thirteen-year journey with this crazy dog who would eventually wreck the neighbor’s pond, ride the kid’s school bus and bring home a half-cooked steak.  All true stories that I will save for another day.

Think about a pivotal moment in your life and I bet that you will find that there is a melody attached to it.  A specific song that was playing at the time something important or exciting happened.  A piece of music devoted to a profound or melancholy experience.  Perhaps it was something that changed the way you viewed the world or significantly impacted your life.  Music has a way of forever defining a moment, a space in time, a person or an event.

From the beginning, it was always about the music for my husband and me.  It all started with a few record albums and a turntable.  My husband loves music.  When we started dating he would often play album after album for me while we sat and talked.  After we were married we continued to spend many evenings on our deck listening to music with each other or with our friends.  Often times we would take turns selecting the next album to play.  We would wait in expectation to see if the other person could guess which artist we had selected.  We would do this for hours while we discussed life and our plans for the future.

Throughout the years, the many dogs, the babies-turned-children-turned-adults, music has been constant in our home.  Neither of us can play an instrument or even sing a note but music has always been in the background of our lives.  It was not uncommon for Bruce Springsteen to wake us up early on Saturday morning.  Or for John Cougar and Lynyrd Skynyrd to work alongside us in the backyard.  U2 and Jimmy Buffet provided our entertainment on Saturday evenings. 

This past Saturday night we found ourselves on the deck once again, this time with an iPod and a blue tooth speaker.   Our daughter joined us and continued the round-robin tradition of choosing the upcoming music.  This time we each picked just one song to be played next.  Still, the three of us looked at each other in anticipation for the reaction to the next song that would be played.

My daughter’s first pick was Led Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song.   This really surprised me until she said it was in a recent soundtrack from a movie that she loved. The interesting thing about playing this quirky game is that each song is also the beginning of a conversation.  It’s an opportunity to share a memory or a story.  It is a connection that we may not have made otherwise.  It is your first high school football game.   Your first big win.  Your first big loss.  It is joy and celebration and quiet solitude.  It is all of these things rolled into a three-minute recording.

Never underestimate the power of music.  It is like therapy for your soul. It has the ability to bring us together and create bonds.  Music fuels our minds and our creativity.  Whether you listen with an iPod or you still have record albums and a turntable we all can benefit from a little background music. 

I credit my mother with my love of reading.  When I was young she would take my sister and me to the public library on a regular basis.  I loved everything about the library.  The quiet refuge.  The smell of the books.  I could stay all day reading the titles and devouring the book covers.

I remember getting my own library card and standing at the counter waiting anxiously for the librarian to check us out.  Meticulously, she would tuck each date stamped card into the rightful book and then she would slide the stack across the counter to me.  I remember standing there tip-toed in order to reach them.

I know that this early love of reading was where my fascination with words began.  The meaning of words.  Finding new words. Getting excited about interesting words that I had never heard before.  As I read I found that words could create fantastic images. That they had the power to transport you to another place and another time.  That time could actually stand still.

I truly believe that words have power.  They have the power to lift us up and inspire us.  They have the power to tear us down and destroy us. 

Dr. Maya Angelou said that “Words are things. Be careful about the words you use or the words you allow to be used in your home.”

Her words remind me to pay close attention to what I say.  To be careful about the words that I put out into the world.  To be mindful of how my words will be heard and remembered. 

As a writer, I am always searching for the perfect words.  The exact right thing to say.  I am finding out, however, that there are no right or perfect words.  There are only words that I prefer more than others.  My hope is that the words I choose, my words, will lift up and inspire those around me. 

I go to a boot camp class during the week.  I like the people there and the way that they support each other.  My daughter has been with me several times and seems to like the class as well except for one thing, the “high fives”.  Yes, I said high fives.  In this class, you are encouraged to give each other a high five at the end of a set of exercises or after hitting a goal or just as a way to motivate others.

Personally, I am a fan of the high five.  It makes me feel connected to those around me, that we share a common goal.  It gives me a sense that we are all in it together.  My daughter, however, feels differently. She is totally focused on her workout and prefers no interruptions.  She feels that giving a high five is not genuine and is not the way she would typically inspire others.

She pointed out to me that you communicate with others the way you want to be communicated to.  For example, if you are motivated by working hard, you will most likely work hard to be an example to inspire others.  I hadn’t really considered this before and it made me start thinking about motivation in general.

Motivation is a tricky thing.  We spend a lot of time reading articles and watching videos in an effort to find motivation.   Reading and learning about something new is great but most of this type of inspiration is short lived.  It’s not until we apply what we have learned that we can find true inspiration.

The interesting thing about motivation is that it is a result of action, not the cause of it.  By taking action, by creating things and even by making mistakes, we find the momentum to move forward.  An object in motion tends to stay in motion, right?  Starting is always the hardest part of the process.  Once you have started it’s much easier to keep going.

Yes, we may find inspiration in other people’s ideas, but the real power is within your own doing.  Combine your ideas with action.  Bring your ideas to life and incorporate them into your work.  Learn a new skill and then create something with it. 

Once you’ve got the motivation going, I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether or not a high five is in order.

Today was a good day.  A relaxing day.  A chance to visit with friends and enjoy the holiday.  I also got to spend a little time fishing. This quiet time with a fishing pole in your hand is a rare opportunity to feed your soul.  It’s peaceful and it gives you time to think.  Today, I thought about my dad as I cast my line into the water.

My dad loved to fish and he took me and my sister often.  Sometimes these trips were planned and we would sit by the shore fishing and eating bologna sandwiches. But, often times they were unplanned.  These impromptu fishing excursions were just quick stops by the side of the road.  Dad would pull the car over by a nearby creek and say “we’ll just stop for a minute to see if anything bites”.  His tackle box and rod were always in his car “just in case”. Of course minutes would turn to hours, but it was a wonderful time with my father that I will never forget.

My dad taught me how to bait a hook and cast a line.  But he also taught me how to drive a car, how to stick up for myself, how not to wear my heart on my sleeve, how to be kind and giving.  How to be true to your word.  To always say please and thank you.  To always be honest.  Not to lie or steal. To be fair and to put other people first. I know that many of these things are very basic but they are also essential.  And to my father they were non-negotiable.  I think we could use a little more of that in the world today.

Today, as I sat by the water, I missed him more than ever. He has been gone for three years now.  But I also smiled as I threw out my line.  I heard him whisper clearly in my ear, just as I did so many years ago. “Reel it in a little slower.” and “Just have a little patience.” And for just a moment I fishing with my dad again. And that made me smile.

Everything changes.  All of the time.  Our children grow up, we change jobs, we move to new locations.  Big changes, little changes, subtle changes – all can cause some upheaval or chaos.  We can be resistant to change but we cannot stop it.

I wonder, however, what if there was no change in our lives?

Without change, I wouldn’t have known what it was like to be a mother. 

Without change, I wouldn’t have developed all of the amazing friendships I have.

Without change, I would still be stuck thinking about starting a website someday.

I believe that our intuition, our inner voice, guides us toward change.  It nudges us, it gives us hints and funny feelings. 

Much of the time, however, we aren’t listening.  We busy ourselves, we ignore our hunches and we resist the very change that might be just what we are looking for.  I believe that we all have an incredible inner wisdom, we just need to practice listening to it.

Consider this:

“To become a butterfly, metamorphosis is necessary.  If the caterpillar never went through this process of change, it would never achieve its great destiny and become its most glorious self.”

“What if that change you’re avoiding is the one that gives you wings?”