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Writer's pictureKatie Wilkes

How to Dish up a Dream Life


Welp, here I am two weeks after divulging my latest thrill. Lying in bed the other night, I thought, guess it’s not one of those one-and-done, never-gonna-bring-it-up-again moments. Divulging something like that reminded me of Dr. Brené Brown admitting that she woke up with a “vulnerability hangover” after giving her renowned TED talk about shame, knowing folks had all sorts of opinions and reactions they weren’t afraid to share from behind a screen.

Except, instead of a full-on hangover, most of me feels like I’ve downed a double shot espresso.

A momentum so strong that I kinda have no choice but to keep going in this direction because it would squash all the fun if I hit the brakes.

I just finished reading The Urgent Life, a beautiful memoir by Bozoma Saint John. Her story is one of profound love and loss, which ultimately taught her to live –as the title suggests—with a sense of urgency. She doesn’t wait years to make the life she craves happen. Because “someday” or all those “tomorrows” may disappear at a moment’s notice.

For reasons of my own, I can identify.

Maybe it’s because growing up moving around the country so much left me wishing I’d soaked up what a place had to offer before the next relocation fell at our feet, whisking it all away.
Halloween in Pismo Beach, CA as a dalmation, what else?

Maybe it’s the fourteen years of being entrenched in crises and disasters seeing people’s lives turn upside down within seconds.

Maybe it was putting the phone down during walks and cuddle time with my senior pup, Ferg, to simply hear his heart beat inside his chest. Taking the time to memorize his trot and the way his thick, wavy hair wrapped around his pale pink skin.

And maybe it’s a combination of all this and more I’m not even aware of that has taught me: if you want something, don’t unnecessarily wait.

Of course, there’s that whole thing about being smart with money and time – I’m not discounting that. I’m more so talking about when we have a deep-down-knowing, a craving. A yearning. It’s come to a point for me where I start asking myself: do I have the resources I need to do/be this? And if not, what’s it gonna take to create them? And then, per usual, about eight dozen excuses not to do it at all swoop in. Most of them sounding pretty legit, actually. The “but how’s?!” and “what if’s!” start to overrule.

Until. I think back to what it felt like to have the rug pulled out beneath me. And in comparison, everything else starts to feel like small, measly potatoes.

So, I’m not one to wait around much anymore.

And as a result, a startling pattern is starting to emerge when I take bold action in the direction of my dreams and desires. When I take the time to get clear about what I want and make the declaration, planting that flag in the sand… The Universe. Shows. UP. Like…
DAMN, REALLY shows up to support it all.
It’s relocating across the country without a lease signed while navigating a massive personal crisis I’m glad I didn’t know was around the corner. And a fitting home and community STILL emerging, even if it unfolded differently from the original plan.

It’s speaking out loud that I’m planning a trip to Thailand to volunteer at an elephant sanctuary. And the world giving me not only a perfect travel buddy, but a chance to deepen friendships and passions and skills.

It’s investing and showing up in my animal communication training, leading to an abundance of practice opportunities, camaraderie and renewed relationships bounding through the gates.

It’s moving near a coast with the intention of helping rescued sea turtles, and the dream volunteer position opening within weeks of settling in.

It’s turning down a pup sitting job that would have brought in good money but stressed me out just thinking about it. And accepting a last minute opportunity to watch my favorite westie pup days later.

It’s saying no to a freelance gig that just doesn’t feel right – while feeling all the FOMO and hesitation of “but what if nothing better comes?” And, within hours, another, better fitting opportunity landing at my feet.

Do you see the pattern?

The world rewards us when we take a chance and follow our gut. And for me, I’m seeing the more I do it with confidence, the faster it can come. Of course, there is no way to 100% know if a window will open when a door closes. Like, if you say, “Okay world, show me the proof before I do it. Then I’ll do it” the goddesses just laugh and say, nah, that’s not how trust works.

So, I’ve kept my own little notebook of proof lately. It has all the times I took a chance and leapt in a direction when it felt so true, and saw it work out–often better–-than what I had expected.
 

I’ve noticed a similar trend with my animal communication sessions. Often, I’ll voice record the full live session which I conduct remotely with an animal and send it to the human for feedback. And every single stinking time, a little voice pops in: “All my readings up till now have gone swimmingly and this is probably the ONE that’s gonna suck and not be accurate at all.”

I have a choice. I could give into that voice and just … not send it. Risk nothing while receiving no feedback at all, never knowing what may be accurate. Or, send it anyway and learn what’s lying on the other side.

So this week, I sent off the voice message to a friend after communicating with her horse, telling myself to just rip the bandaid off, knowing if I didn’t send it right away, I might never. Then I went to bed.

When I woke up, there was a message from my friend waiting for me.

She went on to say how she had to send this note right away, highlighting a series of things that “freaked her out how accurate they were.” I smiled, holding my mug of coffee to my chest listening.

The uncanny timing of how I picked up on the change in her horse’s transportation plans–within minutes of development.
The validation that the person in charge of that plan indeed is a woman with long, blonde hair.
That yes, her horse did share carrots regularly with his friends, being a hefty eater.
And that his personality tracked with what I shared, a kind and diva-ish, stubborn beauty.

Then she spoke to last part of my message. The part I almost didn’t say because so much of my brain doubted it. I had received the image of a black and white puppy with floppy ears–without any context. In fact, I was wondering if another animal might have been interrupting our session and this wasn’t her horse coming through at all.

But no, she said that pup I mentioned was her late dog whom she grew up with and had a special bond. And then came perhaps the most incredible sign of them all.

I had mislabeled the title of that voice memo, mixing up the date: “7.13” instead of “8.13.” That, she remarked, was her dog’s birthday, a significant, special number she always looks out for. My “mistake” was the happiest of non-accidents.
So send the message. Make the call. Book the flight. Speak the dream.
But don’t say I didn’t warn you: some of your wild dreams just may soar into reality. Keep following along by joining my email list.
Or, shoot me a note.
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