Daydreams are the seeds from which all the flowers grow…
After all, what is a dream but a vision? Look at any creative undertaking (in which, I would include all types of entrepreneurial ventures and building things more broadly, including building a life) and you will see that the vision (the dream) is an integral part of the process.
And it’s funny that, in what we might think of the purely creative realm, it’s often somehow easier to admit that we don’t have all the answers yet. In fact, that continuous calling in is part of it. We can just lovingly plant whatever seeds of a vision are there and use our intuitive knowing to feel into how best to water them. Which is a process that so often feels like magic, I’ve begun to think of it as such.
As I lived into Some Days’ fifth birthday, and the retreat I’ve in some ways always known would honor it some day, I found so much inspiration and awe in looking back at all of the shimmers of daydreams and vision going back decades that all had a special place to shine in the experience. The creative threads that stitched together my teenage years and kept me whole. The “Goddess Shop” I imagined having some day, inspired by a special place discovered by chance on a short trip back “home” from Manhattan. Becoming a wife and a mother and imagining a life where all the things I love could be integrated. Answering the call to write again and embracing the imperfectionism it required. Channeling the courage to embrace authenticity as a leader (and all of the discomfort that can come with it), and letting that grow and flower as it may.
Since I sunset my lawyer/corporate executive chapter, I think sometimes people imagine Some Days, as I speak of them, having to be some great big departure from our todays. Which, couldn’t be further from the truth.
Of course, if that is what is calling, I honor that. But, having moved through so many decades of stepping towards Some Days and simmering in strategic daydreams, and having let that journey shape and enrich me with life-changing adventures and experiences of all kinds (without which, I wouldn’t be who I am today), I think what I celebrate most is that it’s not just one thing.
What I want for myself and what I want for everyone is to be able to live a life of meaning and passion. Purpose and connection. Love and bravery. Service and impact. Boldness and care. And for all of those things to be woven seamlessly into the tapestry of our lives so we don’t have to contort to fit ourselves into tiny, airless boxes.
The way that shows up is going to be as different as we are. That’s the beauty. And, something one might not expect is that, often, the dream that calls is perhaps a nuance. A wink. Perhaps a different way of relating to what already exists. Perhaps something not outwardly visible.
Maybe it’s feeling real thriving in a career or broader life we’ve worked so hard to build. Finding regular pockets of joy. Presence. Maybe it’s making the most of the opportunity before us, whatever that is and however it may relate to future Some Days. Maybe it’s feeling good in our parenthood, a role we might have longed for but that can be hard to savor. Maybe it’s stepping into new chapters. Or navigating the unknown. Maybe it’s letting ourselves use our voice. Or be seen. Or be seen another way (even as imperfect…). Letting ourselves experience and honor the storms, knowing that any breaking is like the seed or the bud breaking open. The Anais Nin quote I found on the beach as I navigated steps in the dark and called on my brave – “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
Some days, it’s just a simple, hard to speak desire that we wish we didn’t have to carry so much. Always. A safe space to put it down for a while. To be real and multi-dimensional. Where the full spectrum of human emotion and experience are welcome and we are welcome in our realness and our dreams. Even the ones that feel too big or too scary to name. A space to embrace enoughness. Reconnect with our self-trust and intuition. Reclaim our wild and our wanting.
That’s how it was for me too. My stepping towards my Some Days didn’t start with a huge leap out of the identities that have come to most define me in my life thus far. It started many decades ago, before I knew what it was to name. And is, in fact, what led me to those identities in the first place.
There was always just a fierce dreamer deep down inside me somewhere, often muted by a similarly fierce inner critic, and a whole lot of fear and “shoulds.” But, somehow, the dreamer always found a way to break through. Always found a way to try, even in small ways. Baby steps, as I like to say. And, as I look back on my life, I see all of the places where the dream won out over the fear. It’s those places that have given my life the most meaning. And, many of those places did not require a giant leap in the sense that most people would think of that term. At least not at first.
It was quietly writing poems on a Sunday. Taking pictures of poetry in motion as I walked in nature. Saying yes to speaking requests when it scared me as much as it excited me. Daring to be myself and let my authenticity shine through. And letting that guide the opportunities I pursued.
And, the truth is, each of those things was a big leap for me. Because, for the longest time, I was afraid to be seen. Like, really, truly seen. And, letting myself write again, embracing my right brain and moving in alignment towards what called to me was the result of an intentional decision to be brave and, as Tara Mohr says, to “be more loyal to my dreams than my fears.”
So, getting to witness this in others, and hold space for their dreams and their real, on the five-year anniversary of the birth of Some Days was meaningful beyond measure. As was knowing it was only possible because I let myself be seen. (The cave we fear to enter and all… True words, Joseph Campbell.)
Again, though, it’s not just one thing. It’s also not static. And, it feels important to note that it’s not always linear and I’m not sure there’s a “destination” to “reach.” “I thought it was so clear and now it’s not” is very much the rumble and the dance. It’s part of why growth and self-discovery are an always-on thing. And why we need our compass. And to keep recalibrating it. From a place where the noise is quiet and we can hear ourselves. Our wisest, most authentic, aligned selves.
We get to keep living and keep dreaming. Keep gathering and incorporating data, including emotional and resonance data. If we’re lucky, the story keeps unfolding. It can feel challenging and confusing but it actually means we’re living.
Our brain wants to classify and solve. Label things and make sense of them. Know the “answer.” Because it doesn’t like the discomfort of the unknown. But the unknown is also the land of possibility. So, it becomes – what do we ground in to navigate through it with intention?
And that’s where the power of the dream can be so helpful. Not because it’s always literal, or we’re going to reach it tomorrow or it’s not going to change as we move towards it, but because it lights the way. It lights a fire and the glow helps us see the next step.
It’s also why it’s so important we take care to ensure, as much as possible, that the journey is as fulfilling as the destination. Because we are always on the journey in so many ways.
We are always growing into the person we are becoming.
It’s about doing that with intention. Freeing our wanting from the constraints of a system better served by us turning down that volume dial. Letting ourselves want what we want at full blast – John Cusack with the boombox – and harnessing our tools to move towards it. Knowing we’re being shaped and evolving along the way. And where we thought we were going may not be where we go. Or where we stay. But we can be brave enough to explore anyway.
We all have our own unique Some Days. Those dreams we may not yet see in full, but we can certainly taste and feel.
My wish for you, is that you let yourself dream. Honor the vision and the wanting coming forth. Even when it’s hard or unclear. And, as you do, let yourself imagine how good it would feel to taste just a drop of it. Let yourself quiet the noise of the naysayers (in your mind or in your surroundings) long enough to let it linger.
Because, the one thing I know is these are your Some Days. Whether you name them or not. As my favorite soap opera growing up would say, these are the days of your life.
So, an invitation: Flirt with your daydreams…and see what happens…
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If something in this speaks to you, please add your name to the Some Days, Autumn Abundance 2026 – Fall Retreat Interest List for early details and access to the immersive space I’ll be holding this fall and check out Some Days’ full range of Offerings, intentionally designed to meet you where you are.
