I didn’t know as this summer started what it would hold. If I knew the changes that were about to come about, I may have paused and reflected a little bit more. But that’s how most big life changes happen, isn’t it?

I didn’t realize I was at the precipice of a very large cliff, overlooking a crystal blue sea more beautiful then I’d ever been faced with before in my life. I didn’t realize the mountain that I’d been climbing and struggling up was really as steep as it was until I looked back as I stood at the precipice about to take a plunge and enjoy the refreshing sea that had been waiting for me…I didn’t realize it was actually just waiting for me to get there all this time.

Maybe if I’d realized these things, I wouldn’t have stayed stuck on some of those pebbles for so long. From up here, able to peek a little bit at what lies in front, and what I’ve passed over behind, I really do realize, those things I was stressing over so much, really were just pebbles. It almost makes me feel silly that I made them into such boulders. They did help to polish me into who I am now, but I didn’t have to let them weigh me down so disproportionately.

My words have trickled out of me with fleeting dreams for a quarter century and in a year of passion and excitement have gushed like a geyser out of my pen and keyboard alike. Ideas and thoughts have raced through me with such speed I can’t keep up at times. Expanding my children’s books, polishing my poetry and now, venturing into writing an entire novel that I’m daring to pitch to people important enough to do something about it…

I have no idea where I’ll end up or how long it will take me for my dreams to come to fruition, but I’m pursuing them, and the sense of accomplishment and drive inside me has been worth that climb. It’s been worth stumbling on those pebbles. It’s been worth the excitement and nerves of daring to finally give my dreams the attention they deserve.

What would I tell that little girl standing fearful at the bottom of the hill all those years ago looking up at the top thinking she couldn’t do it, and that there was no way she could even dare to start up for fear of slipping? I would pick her up in my arms and hold her and hug her and tell her I love her and dare her to dream a little harder, and whisper in her ear not to let her fear hold her back and get in her way of her beautiful dreams. I would tell her the climb was only the beginning and she’s worth every ounce of strength and courage.