What did you wish to be that you already are? What have you done that was impossible? How many parts of yourself and your treasured relationships did you shed because they were blocking your healing and your growth?
You probably gave up a lot to get here. So bring your full attention to the fact that you are here. You did the thing. You may have decided there's more for you to do. More of the spiral of remembering and reckoning and releasing so that more of your brilliance can shine through.
It can be very tempting to bypass this recognition of yourself. I found myself doing this just the other day. After a day of snow squalls and high winds, my greenhouse came down. I was frustrated and disappointed, and I also felt as though I had failed.
I needed to be reminded that it was my dream for many years to have a farm. It seemed impossible and when I entertained the thought that it might just happen, I could not see how it would happen. There is victory in holding onto hope for our dreams and there is great victory in moving in their direction and finally stepping into them. It takes so much courage, so much faith.
In a way, it felt like the closing of a very important chapter, seeing those greenhouse poles lying on the snowy ground. I did what I came to this place to do. I received rest and renewal. I drafted plans for my crops and for the greenhouse, planted the seeds, fertilized and watered them, kept them safe from pests. I ate some of my first harvest last week and felt deep pride.
And it is time for me to leave this place. The pull of loved ones and thrift stores,used bookshops and queer and trans community, street music and the cacophony of a dozen different languages is calling me. I am answering. I will miss the roses and the ravens, the eagles and the yarrow, the breathtaking sunsets and the majesty of the mountains. It is still time for me to leave.
Sometimes, we need to do something just to prove to ourselves that we are capable of it. I knew when I was moving here that it would not be forever. I understood that it was simply a move further up the mountain so that I could get a better understanding of how to reach the top. I needed this stopping point and the shelter and insight it has provided.
When you spend years working to understand yourself, what your gifts and values and yearnings are, in time, you can hear their absence like a bow misplaced on a violin. I hear that disharmony and so I have been packing boxes and sitting with what is, for now, an ending. It is not a dream which did not come true, but one that did. And there are other dreams worth following. And so I follow.
Making space to listen to your dreams, to give weight to them and to keep them alive is serious business. Whatever dreams you brought to life, especially in these difficult times, deserve to be recognized and celebrated. There was probably a price you paid for it. It may not have been visible. It may have been heavy.
Whatever dreams are still nestled safe within you, waiting for their time, be patient with them. They may need more time than you think. You may need more time than you think to be able to feel worthy of them or to know that you are capable of holding them. You are still miraculous.
You are climbing a mountain and you yourself are also the mountain. Wise. Enduring. Beautiful. Maybe you are holding more weight than anyone could see at first glance. You are also a safe haven for plants and animals and stones which could live nowhere else.
Maybe you are tired of the work it took to bring this about. Maybe your strong will is tempered. Feast yourself as you would an honoured guest. This world will never hesitate to let you know when you missed the mark, which makes it all the more important that you celebrate each bulls eye.
Here you are, in the good company of those who longed and dared, sometimes armed with nothing but dogged determination and spite. Place the laurel wreath on your own head. Catch sight of yourself in a mirror, glorious, victorious. Feast. Rest. Rejoice. More dreams will call you to shape them tomorrow.