Apologies for the silence this past week. I have been immersed in the launch of my first ever e-course, Dream Into Spring.
I released it on the 21st of March, rough around the edges, and with vulnerability gnawing at my heart and, at times, a repetitive voice asking, “What are you doing?”
If I’m honest, I had no idea what I was doing. There was simply this deep sense of wanting to share, to connect, as much for me as anyone else. I needed to slow down, notice, explore my thoughts and ideas, and do so in a safe space alongside others up for the journey.
There is a saying “build and they will come” and this philosophy has often worked for me. When you can’t see something you need; create it.
In creating this course I have been reminded of so much. The most important is that as scary as it is to take a first step, when you do it can be so uplifting. I’ve taken many leaps into the unknown in my own life and yet, lately, I have struggled to remember that person who was fearless. This past year has seen me fold inwards with pain, the creases so deep I thought I might never iron them out. By launching myself into this course I found myself expanding: breathing again, sharing from the heart, recognising I still have much to offer.
As I reached the end of the week, one dream firmly in my mind and a strong vision of how to make it happen in my heart, I felt alive. My nature collection gathered on daily walks spread out around me: reeds, thistles, sticks, leaves. Dead matter. Bleached. A visual reminder that with this season we have the opportunity to grow. A blank canvas upon which to paint life. I listened and looked anew.
Bird song, like glitter falling through my mind. The smell of rich earth. Everything fresh. Buds bursting, pushing their way out of darkness—thank goodness. Flashes of yellow Celandine, a white Egret perched high in a tree, and tiny pink hawthorn buds. The sight of lichen on gnarled branches stopping me in my tracks. Pure gold.
The first step to anything: a new job, piece of writing, emergence from darkness; an ecourse! represents the beginning of something. And the beginning of something is a foundation to build upon. Without this base we might not build at all.
I have been humbled this week as I held space for so many beautiful souls and recognised—in all of us—the potential of taking chances, looking out and leaning in, to build and appreciate our dreams. But perhaps most of all, I recognised that the most important thing is simply to begin.
Just Begin