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on the power of showing up

note: I wrote this post in April of 2019 (pre-COVID). It's been sitting in my drafts for quite a while, but I think it's time for it to see the light of day. It's been helpful for me to reread over the past few months, especially as I continue to try to make an effort to write, and I hope it can be helpful to you, too. i got an invite to a writers' group a few months ago, and i had never felt like more of a fraud in my life. it had been months, if not years, since i'd felt like a writer. the proverbial well of words in my heart had dried up, it seemed, and i wasn't sure if it was ever coming back. i agreed to go out of a sense of helplessness—i'd identified as a writer ever since i could remember. if i'm not a writer, who am i?  i told myself that it was important to show up and act like a writer even when i didn't feel like one, because even though i hadn't been writing, i reassured myself, i still was a writer. but sometimes the words f

maybe i’m dreaming

I’ll bet a sleepy girl somewhere in the world closed her eyes last night and suddenly found herself twirling. — Adam Young

One spark of an old story idea I’d had years ago. That’s all it took to send me on a raucous, determined quest into the depths of my closet to find some of the very first words I ever penned. That wasn’t what I expected to find, of course. A lot of what I found there wasn’t what I expected to find, but isn’t that the way quests are?

I pushed through the clothing and curled up on the wooden floor, sitting Indian-style, and I sorted through pages and pages of my history. My words were there, written for all eternity, preserved in the spaces of paper and time. I went away to another world there.

I found my dreams there.

I found a stapled-together sheaf of paper. Four pages filled with some of the most beautiful words I’ve had the privilege of reading in all my life. But they weren’t written by me. I had forgotten about this blog entry; I forgot that I had even printed it out. I had forgotten how much the words made me soar and made me feel alive.

I can’t believe words can do that. A collection of words, stapled together, hidden in my closet for who-knows-how-long, until just now. That was all it took for me to come alive.

It was a story about a prince and a princess, and for a moment I was swept away into a sparkling night on the other side of the pages… and it was so, so beautiful. As I held the dusty paper in my hands I realized how grateful I was I’d printed this out, because the internet doesn’t always last forever. These words—I wanted them to stick with me always.

This blog post was written by Adam Young for those curious (I can’t find a link because his blog seems to be down, but it was the entry titled I’ll See You In My Dreams). Regardless, the effect of these words still lingers, which is that in my closet I found a world again (not unlike Narnia), and I found some of my younger self, and I remembered what I was like one summer not too long ago when I dreamed and dreamed about all things bright and beautiful.

I remember it now. I remember that summer filled with life and light and exuberant joy. I want to have that summer again, but maybe that’s not important. Maybe what is important is that I’ve remembered what it’s like to dream.

This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten lost and found my way back again—it seems to happen over and over again. But each time it does, it feels amazing when I wake up, back into the reality, or not-reality, as it were. And it’s wonderful and it feels just like coming home.

Thank you, Owl City. But… this almost feels like it extends far beyond Owl City, into the world of beauty and wonder and everything bright and beautiful. Regardless, I’ve returned to the ranks of dreamers all over the world. And it’s good to be back.

If the green left the grass on the other side 
(I would make like a tree and leave) 
But if I reached for your hand 
Would your eyes get wide? 
(Who knew the other side could be so green?)
(honey and the bee, owl city)


  1. Adam has a way of sweeping his listeners (and readers) off into a dream world. He's such an awesome person.

    I love your writing. :)

    God bless,
    Joy :)

  2. Isn't the life of a dreamer a beautiful one? It's so good to hear from you again, girl! And you know what, I think I've read that blog post by Adam Young! I can't be sure, it might have just been a similar one, but regardless he is probably one of the most inspiring people in the world. His words awaken something inside me, and it seems I'm not the only one.

    Keep dreaming, Sky. To be a dreamer is a blessed thing.

  3. Oh, that's beautiful. :) Thanks for sharing!


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