Earlier this week, during our Dare, Dream, Do teleclass, one of the participants, a lovely, capable woman, who is holding a full-time job (one of her dreams), while her husband is studying in another city (one of his dreams). She is parenting (another of her dreams) her two children during the week alone.
Toward the end of our class, as each person was listing her dares for the coming week, she said, “I am not really dreaming right now.”
I suspect I am in part to blame for her having made that statement.
So many women I come in contact with are already fulfilling their dream of attending to those they love, of being a safe harbor, I spend much of my time encouraging them to set sail, to navigate uncharted waters. The unintended consequence is that I have accorded more importance to being ship.
Ironically, I wrote Dare, Dream, Do during a period when I was learning to dock my ship, to be the haven of a harbor because this is one of my dearest dreams. During this period of self-reflection (and my struggle to parent well) the ideas that form the basis of the book came spilling out of me.
I dream of being a ship — and of being a harbor.
Both are vital to our truly growing up — for women and men.
If it's your dream, it is yours.
In all of its wonderful, unique, terrifying, beautiful magnificence.