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I remember being six or seven, and falling in love with the butterflies. Their wings flickering fast under the sunlight, lifting them up and carrying them in a sudden rush of air. I remember the sun on my own cheeks and the wind in my hair as I spun in circles in the yard, free. Time didn’t matter; it stopped, and I’d spin and run, and follow the butterflies until I’d hear my mother call me to dinner, or to come inside for whatever important reason.

Reality grounds us all and sometimes it gives us unexpected surprises, some of them good and some of them bad. As I’m learning to move through each day with a smile on my face because I can, I’ve realized, we can’t always influence what happens to us, but we can influence our hearts and our own actions to these outside forces.

I’ve been working on a serious dream of mine for a little over five years, and many days and moments, I don’t hear exactly what I want to hear. I may feel down for a moment. I may need a night to decompress and just feel icky. The sun fades. The stars shine. The next morning I wake up and I think, I still really want this dream. I’ve also learned as I walk forward each day, at least a little ways, we can’t always wake up and be brilliant. Some days we walk and find ourselves back in the same spot scratching our heads. That’s okay. It is perfectly okay to embrace the certain humbling experience of working so hard and seeing very little.

I teach Yoga. I tell my yoga students, flexibility never happens over night. I ask them to be patient, and one day, they’ll be stuck in a certain pose, trying and working, and all of a sudden they’ll feel this shift—a response in their body. Or maybe one morning, they’ll wake up and find themselves standing taller. In my five years of teaching yoga, I went to the doctor this past summer and he measured me. I looked at my height measurement, and I actually grew, because Yoga helps the body let go. Tension, fatigue, life, all of what we do takes a toll on our muscles. The same is true for dreaming. One day, I may feel like I’m getting no where. Suddenly, the blinds open. The sun shines through, and I see something different. I see a miraculous clue that I’ve just made progress.

My last thought of my post is this: it is okay to have to work hard. It is okay to face little if no progress sometimes, but don’t give up. It will happen, if you want it that bad. If you keep working hard and refusing to accept the no, eventually, as one of my good writing buddies always tells me, “something good will come this way,” someday. Hugs my friends.

And happy birthday to me!