Do you ever feel stuck? Like each day sort of just creeps into the next.
Do you ever feel lost? Like you’re not quite sure what you’re doing or why you’re doing it.
Do you ever feel like you’re in search of a spark? Like there’s something out there, waiting for you, and if you could find it your whole life would experience a domino-effect of positive consequences.
I do. Sometimes. Sometimes it’s because I’m 43 years old, and my body feels much older and weaker than my chronological age. Sometimes it’s because I miss my teaching career.
Which is why I enjoyed the last fiction book I read, Debbie Macomber’s Twenty Wishes.
The title is based on the premise of the novel. A group of women each decide to create a list – “an inventory of wishes.” Not practical to-do items, but “twenty dreams written down.” Each woman had a different list of “wishes and hopes for the future.” One character wanted to learn to belly dance. Another character bought herself a convertible. Still another desired a pair of red cowboy boots.
While reading about these women and their wishes, I thought about what would be on my list of wishes.
– Visit my pen pal, Aya, in Japan.
– Travel to Paris with my husband and son.
– Drive a convertible – with the top down.
– Go for a gondola ride in Venice, Italy.
– Explore the Kennedy Space Center in Florida.
– Sightsee in New York including stops at the Statue of Liberty and Empire State Building.
Writing my own list is more difficult than I thought it would be. As one character so aptly stated, “Sometimes I think we’re afraid to admit we want certain things. Especially things that contradict the image we have of ourselves.”
I’m still working on my list. Most of my items have to do with travel, and it’s not so easy for me to just pack up and go. So I need to work on creating a list that also includes items that are more easily achieved here in Los Angeles (and not as expensive as traveling to Japan).
Meanwhile, those are mine. Readers, I’d love to read your wishes. Feel free to share in the comments section.