If your dreams leave you restless -- start where you are.

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She clutched her coffee and got real quiet. I have a tendency to fill the empty space but this time I waited.

“I’m a dreamer”, she said.

I kept real still, hoping she’d share more, and said with eyes -- me too. I wanted her to know it was safe to go on. Because I was a dreamer at her age. I still am.

I have books and retreats and businesses swirling around in my head. I want to own a B&B in Ireland one day. On walks with my husband, we notice abandoned warehouses and see possibility and promise. And pray that our hands might be part of the restoration.

Dreaming is good and healthy. It’s necessary. I believe we’re made for it.

I get into trouble though when I only live from this place. When my view is only up high and never low to the ground. When I start to believe I’m in control of all that is happening. When I begin nitpicking my every job transition and move and think location equates purpose. When I look at the work of my hands and assume that it’s small and insignificant. And when I become so paralyzed by choice and indecision that I refuse to do anything, for fear of chasing one dream and forsaking the others.

I’m not saying we neglect this part of us, dreamers. We must fight for this space in our hearts. Particularly as we get older and folks try to tell us to just sit still and be quiet.

The echo of their words still stings -- it cannot be done, that’s a foolish idea.

But what would it look like to see just three feet in front of us? When we’re plagued by indecision and discontent, let’s find the small space of green at our feet and begin there....

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