I really, really want to live my dreams… oh snap, is this a midlife Live your dreamcrisis? No, it’s been happening for awhile. I’m antsy. I’ve got itchy feet and want to fly, with the hubby in tow, of course. Not that kind of itchy feet.

I am so swallowed up with the need for change. Change of pace, place and space. What do you do though, when you’ve got so many things you want to do; or you’ve got so many things you think you want to do? Where do you start? What do you do when you’re in that spot where days start to really count, and you start counting them as if they’re numbered? What do you do when you’re bound to a place because you’ve got amazing, beautiful kids to grow and they’re almost there and you feel guilty for wanting it to be done because you know so well that you can’t get these days back? And knowing that you can’t get these days back also nags at you because here you stay, quagmired, and those very precious moments are ticking by? What do you do when you’re desperate for yourself, but desperately love the things you’d have to miss, and desperately hate all things that seem selfish? What do you do with the guilt and the acute disparity within your heart, your soul? How do you find the right dream? How do you find the right path where your heart will thrive and not break? Is there a place where your heart won’t break, and won’t break others’? Where do you find the middle road, and still find a road less traveled? Where’s the place where you show your children that finding a path that feeds their soul is more important than the golden handcuffs that feed their mouths yet starve that beautiful soul to a whisper?

What do you do when you know that the universe is speaking, but you just can’t quite understand? You keep talking, I guess. You keep dreaming. You get quiet and listen.