Be Your Own Dream Maker

Do you have lists, folders or a bulletin board full of things you desire?
I do. At my store I had an entire wall of cork behind the desk. It was 11 feet high. The entire surface was covered with pictures, cards, swatches, anything and everything I loved. Except for the very tippy top, because if I could reach it standing on my chair, so be it. If I had to get the ladder; it didn’t make the cut. Too lazy.

I dream big. Always have, always will.
I believe EVERYTHING is obtainable.
The extraordinary things I covet and the pictures I collect are just reminders for me.
I want it all!
Then reality lands on my head. And while he messes my hair, he whispers in my ear this loaded question:
Are you willing to do what it takes?
We all know deep down what’s required to achieve our dreams.
What changes, course corrections, sacrifices, hard work and amount of commitment will deliver them to us.
But will we only reach as high as the chair will take us or will we get off of our asses and get the ladder?

Are you willing to do what it takes?
We can ask that question of ANY situation. If we do, often the answer will be: not now, or I’m not ready, or flat-out NO.
Then we have no one to blame but ourselves when something slips through our fingers and that’s no fun.
Blame comes in handy. It deflects the shame.

Sometimes you think you know what you’re willing to do, but if you’d really known what it would take, you’d have packed your bags and moved to Siberia.

When I decided to buy a house I knew I had to put an end to my frivolous spending.
I was making good money and buying everything that wasn’t nailed down. I was a hoarder of all the finest things in life. But I could not continue to be that girl AND own a home. Not unless I learned how to turn shoes into gold.
I was sick and tired of greasing Uncle Sam’s palm with my tax money, and listening to my upstairs neighbor’s terrible music and bad headboard rhythm during sex.

I wanted a house, and I wanted it in a year.
I was 39 years old. Time was a wastin’.
But…Was I willing to do what it would take?
It had to be drastic. I needed to save $40,000 in twelve months. I formulated a plan, and jumped. Are you seeing a pattern in my life? I am.

I moved out of my 3000 square foot rented duplex, and put everything in storage. Then my two Siamese cats, their giant cat tree, and 1/3 of my clothes, moved into a 10 x 10ft. bedroom at my sisters with her husband and my two-year old nephew.
It was a toddler/cat free-for-all for this childless, terminally single girl.
Did I also mention that my 7 minute commute turned into one hour each way?
Oh yeah, now THAT’S commitment.
All the sacrifice, all fur balls and midnight cat fights paid off. I did manage to move out after exactly one year. It was a good thing too. My sister was four months pregnant with my niece by then and was going to need MY room.

As I write this I’m sitting in that very house, which I LOVE. I’m proud of myself for buckling down, behaving like grown up, and going after my dream.
Parts of it were fun, but I can’t imagine doing it again. Not in a million years.

I’ve worked two jobs, logged thousands of overtime hours, and passed on great vacation trips, as I’m sure a lot of you have, to get what I wanted.
I’ve learned how to be soft and vulnerable, while getting my heart-broken, in order to be ready for my husband.
Some jumps I’ve taken have failed.
A lot of what I’ve done, I’d never do again.
If I’d REALLY known what it would take, I may not have been so willing.
I think as time goes on you develop a kind of amnesia to the pain. It keeps you in the game.

Regardless, it couldn’t have been THAT bad.
It has all brought me here, and here, is pretty damn good.
So I say: Go for it.

XoxJanet