What Happens When You Dream

Over six years ago, I walked into a room that would change my life forever. My parents had just taken a 30-hour personal development course, and could not stop raving about it. When I heard that my dad, my stoic, reserved dad, cried during this course I had to check it out.

I’ve assisted at The Living Course (TLC) every single time since my initial course, and I learn so much about myself and humanity during these intense hours (after you take the course once, you can come back to every course afterward for free!). One of the focuses of the course is realizing a dream that is bigger than yourself; a dream that can guide your decisions and instill your life with purpose. The second time I assisted at the course, I told a room full of people that I was going to create an artist’s colony where creative people can learn from each other and support each other.

As soon as I proclaimed this dream I realized I had no idea how I would achieve it, and I didn’t even know where it came from. Mind you, this was years before I started The Heso Project (but the course was one of the reason why I started The Heso Project). TLC gave me an environment that was so supportive, so loving, and so energetic that it allowed me to tap into an intuitive part of myself that I never heard before.

T4Years go by and I’m constantly recognizing lessons from TLC popping up in my life, but the dream I had announced didn’t seem to stick. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I realized I was taking huge steps toward that dream I put into words during the course. The Writers Work Conference is a supportive and nurturing space for creative people. I am now setting up a retreat for writers in the Catskills for this winter, and a reading in Manhattan for emerging authors this November. These are concrete steps toward the dream of creating an artist’s colony.

I’m so grateful to The Living Course for asking me to find my dream, giving me the support to go after it, and helping me to unburden my past. The world would be so much more passionate, nurturing, and fun if everyone took this course. I hope you will be the next person to enroll. The next course is Nov. 7-9 in Rye, New York. If you sign up by Oct. 15, you’ll get $100 off! If the price tag scares you, I ask you to take a moment and really question how much you are worth. You deserve to spend that much money on yourself. You deserve this course!

Stop looking at the screen

When I first moved to New York City almost six years ago, I noticed an incredible phenomenon on the NYC subway system. Down below the sewer mains, and bustling traffic, people were reading books. The crowded subway cars were filled with readers. Even people who couldn’t get a seat, clung onto the pole with one hand and a book with the other. Their cup of coffee usually balancing somewhere between their arm and chest. For an aspiring writer, it was a sight that brought tears of joy to my eyes.

Studying the covers of the books people read, I considered my commute a living bookstore. Oftentimes I would see the same book more than once and felt compelled to buy it. I didn’t need the New York Times to tell me the list of bestselling books — I could see it with my own eyes.

It was during that time I pinpointed my dream. I wanted to see someone holding my book on the subway. I wanted to see a stranger biting her nails and furrowing her brow as she turned the pages of my thoughts.

Now I’m afraid that won’t happen. Not because I’m not writing, but because everyone has a damn e-reader and I can’t see what they’re reading. Six years ago, people laughed at the kindle and nook. Us traditionalists thought that would never catch on.  Occasionally you would see one or two e-readers on the subway but the rest of us gave those weirdos a look of disdain (or at least I did (or at least I thought about doing it)). Now they’re everywhere.

Five years ago all those screens would have been books. Photo credit: corners311

I have no idea what to read because I can’t browse the subways anymore, and my favorite bookstores are closing down one by one.

My writing has always existed on the screen. Anyone can open up a word document and start typing, but the idea of a team of people who are in the know thinking that my word document is so good they are willing to print it out, slap a beautiful cover on it, and take up valuable shelf space in bookstores across the country is an idea so precious, and so worth fighting for that it has kept me motivated like no inspirational quote, or mentor could ever do for me. One of my biggest professional fears is that by the time I get good enough to be published actual books won’t exist anymore, and my writing will never leave the screen.

Please, I beg you, stop reading the screen. Buy a hardcover book. Buy a paperback. Heck buy a magazine, just don’t let books whither away into oblivion. Don’t kill the dream.