Dear Fellow Dreamer,
One of the wonders of my life was discovering I’d inherited a house. Not just any house, a family house. One I’d known for over thirty years, that had been lived in by an uncle and aunt I dearly loved. A house filled with my grandmother’s antiques. Furniture I can remember pulling myself up on as a toddler. The 18th-century French sideboard that my cousin and I transformed into our Barbies’ apartments. Gramma’s rocking chair where we grandkids took turns sitting on her lap. The oval table where my favourite Gone with the Wind lamp once stood glowing in Gram’s front window. Two big old wicker chairs from decades-ago visits on my grandparents’ rambling verandah. The dusty-rose upholstered corner chair (very old) where Gramma once perched, head high, hands gripping her cane top, telling us stories of 1920s dances in the Eastern Townships of Quebec and her life as a flapper—the same chair where, recently, I sat writing my forthcoming novel (also set in the 1920s) River of Dreams.
I wouldn’t have wished my aunt and uncle’s sudden departures from this world on them, or anyone. In fact, until I was in my forties, I hadn’t thought much about my remaining elders dying. Mostly because I didn’t want to think about it. Besides, the whole notion had seemed abstract and far away. That is, until I went from having many older relatives in my life—people close to me, whom I loved and cherished—to having only two beloved elders left, all in the span of a few years. But life happens. And death is part of it.
I could write pages about my Uncle Derek and Tante Monique—how they made me laugh and feel joyful, how I adored them, and how they were like a second set of parents to me before and after my own parents split up during the early 1980s. Filled with family artifacts, their English cottage-style suburban home in Ottawa’s twin city didn’t look like my grandparents’ 1860 house in Stratford, Ontario. But it felt like it. Mostly (miraculously) because my aunt cared for old things and spent untallied hours of her life crafting a space that suited their souls. Ask anyone who visited them, and they’ll tell you Derek and Monique’s little house was a special place.
It still is.
But this isn’t the time for writing pages about my aunt and uncle. (Though if you like, you can read a post I devoted to Monique before one of my last visits to her.) This week’s letter is about making room to manifest YOUR vision. It’s about making the most of this marvellous life while we’re here. And so, you might be wondering, how does that connect with my story of inheriting a 1970s Gatineau bungalow crammed with antiques, memorabilia, and family artifacts?
Well, it does. And I’ll explain.
To begin, I want to provide you with the first of three important keys to receiving and crafting your own personal vision. In this letter, I’m drawing on my past experiences simply to illustrate how a few things work—or can work—if you’re willing to believe in dreams.
Key 1: Dare to ask yourself the question, “What would I love?”
You’d be surprised how many people never ask themselves that, usually due to a fear of being disappointed. If that’s you, then I encourage you to override that common old, conditioned fear. Remember, in your imagination, you are free. I encourage you to continue asking yourself what you would love. Be bold, yet also be gentle with yourself. Keep returning to the question. And write down any and all ideas that come to you. Don’t judge what answers arrive. Just allow them. Look at them. Feel into what it is you’d love to create in “your one wild and precious life.” (Thank you, Mary Oliver.)
By now, members of my emerging Wonders Within Circle have received the first two detailed instructional videos on the basics of establishing a vision. Those talks are posted and available. Next Friday, paid subscribers to Awakening Wonder will receive the third of four talks in this new series. If you’d welcome a deeper dive into creating your own vision and learning how to work with it in order to make desired changes, join us here:
As we move from the old year into a new one, this is a powerful time to begin building your dream.
Key 2: Remember that the stories we tell ourselves shape our lives
That belief has been the central theme of my letters to you all month—a month in which I’ve been writing with my “coach hat” on. And with that theme comes this corollary: Tell yourself a good story. Make your vision of what’s ahead one that lifts your spirits and gives you life. I’ve been doing this for many years now. And of course, my life is a work in progress, I’m nowhere near (and never will be) perfect, and I still have many dreams I’d love to build. But I can also look back and say that, in my time, I’ve helped some beautiful visions come into form—not just my own, but others’, too.
All dream building begins with having a vision.
A few brief examples:
When my life was filled with a busy day job and raising my child, I also yearned to reconnect with the artist part of me. Specifically, the writer part. And so, I told myself a good story—one in which I was a published author. While that dream was fulfilled decades ago, it’s one I still cherish and continue to build on. Obviously, having a vision alone wasn’t enough to earn publication offers. I had to take action, hone my craft skills, and cultivate the right mindset—which included implementing practices for strengthening creative resilience—in order to meet the opportunities and challenges as they arose. Out of conditions that, many years ago, looked vastly different from the life I’d begun imagining, I created a new life for myself as a writer.
At another point in my journey, after romantic relationships kept ending, I told myself a good story—one in which my love life was healed and I was in a beautiful relationship with my soul mate. Eventually, in the most unlikely of places, a Zen Buddhist Temple, I met the man I fell in love with and our life together took form. Again, having a vision alone wasn’t enough to transform my relationship domain; I had to be willing to work on myself—to develop greater awareness and shift my core beliefs. But that vision was the first step. As of now, my husband and I have been together for over 16 years, we’re in love, and we’re still growing and building our dreams.
During our first marriages, both my husband and I had co-owned houses, and after those marriages ended, we’d left the real estate market. By the time we found each other, even though we were salaried professionals, it was hard to imagine how we’d ever get back into the Toronto market. But then, I told myself a good story. Immersed in my studies and evolving work as a transformation coach, I visualized us in our own beautiful home. In my mind, I could see an entranceway similar to my aunt and uncle’s, and a living room like theirs, with a fireplace and a cream-coloured couch in the window where I loved to sit and read—though of course, I was picturing a home in Toronto. Specifically, in the Riverdale neighbourhood. Well, life doesn’t always go exactly as we imagine. In vision work, after we’ve described to ourselves what we’d love to experience, and done our best to visualize those details, we close with the statement, “This, or something greater still.” That’s because our limited, logical minds can’t see all the variables. Always, we leave room for wonder.
By now, you know how that story turned out.
Key 3: Clear space for your vision
When we moved from the Toronto house we’d been renting into a home where an older couple had lived for decades—one packed with objects I cared about, along with a lot of other old stuff—we faced the challenge of merging two well established households. Like my aunt, I was a “family keeper,” devoted to preserving meaningful furniture, books, photographs, paper records, old china, and other artifacts, such as the precious paintings my uncle had spent his retirement years creating. Add to those, my grandfather’s paintings. And thanks to him, my inherited trait of being a bibliophile. You get the picture.
At first, the task of decluttering felt overwhelming. But we had to do it. For one thing, we had to be able to move around! Yet I also knew, from my coaching practice, that just as working with a vision is really working with energy, so too is clearing our space. We needed to make room for new visions to become clear and take form.
The first room I cleaned and cleared was my home office. In some ways, it was the most important room, because my office is where I work remotely with my clients. It’s also where I write. And I knew the congested old energy needed to go, so that new, fresh energy could fill the space.
What can you do to begin clearing a space for your own fresh new dreams?
You’ll feel lighter after releasing things that no longer serve you. If the thought of decluttering feels overwhelming, perhaps consider just starting with a drawer. One drawer. After you’ve emptied it and decided what stays and what goes, set an intention for what you’re calling in to fill the new space. I know, it might sound crazy. (Picture doing this with a sock drawer, for example). However, establishing this little ritual of freeing yourself from the psychic weight of old items, and setting an intention for what you’d love, is foundational to transformation. Do it a few times, and you’ll see.
Over the years, I’ve learned from many good books on the subject of decluttering and clearing space. Here are a few I recommend. These links take you to descriptions on Amazon, though of course, you can contact your local indie bookseller to learn more about ordering:
Clear Your Clutter with Feng Shui by Karen Kingston
Sacred Space by Denise Linn
Feng Shui for the Soul by Denise Linn
Space Clearing A – Z by Denise Linn
There are many other great resources, too. For myself, I prefer books on this subject that feel nurturing, and not obsessive. Again, being gentle with ourselves, non-judgemental, and loving—that’s so important when it comes to working with the energy in your space and in your life. You are, after all, an energy being.
One more thing. From my experience, I’ve come to know that when facing a challenge, being willing to receive expert support makes the process much lighter, easier, faster, and more effective. And so, a couple of times while setting up our new home, I hired professionals who specialized in decluttering. Rolling up my sleeves with them, I learned a lot. Ultimately, we were able to establish helpful systems, including a great storage area.
The work of releasing things, clearing space, organizing, and setting intentions is ongoing in my life. By choice, I’ll never be a minimalist. But it’s good work that keeps me fresh in clarifying my own desires and intentions. When I release things, often I send them on their way with gratitude, giving thanks for my life and the people in it. Making room for beautiful, sometimes astonishing, new experiences.
Quote of the Week:
“If you write with a clear intention to communicate with your inner wisdom, you create a doorway between conscious mind and cosmic mind, self energy and source energy, old neural pathways and new ones, life as it is and life as it could be.”
—Janet Conner, Writing Down Your Soul
Video of the Week:
What’s Ahead:
Holiday alert. As I mentioned earlier, next Friday, paid subscribers will receive my third video in the Wonders Within Series. It’s on testing your vision and implementing new habits, including an important practice, to help bring that vision into form. The following week, I’m taking an early holiday break with family. And so, please know that I haven’t disappeared. Look for my next newsletter to all subscribers on Friday, December 13th.
If you have comments or questions, don’t hesitate to share them. (And hearts, too, in the Substack app—much appreciated.)
Thank you for being here. I wish you a beautiful start to the holiday season!
Warmly,
Robin
Love this so much, Robin! I did a double take when I read the beginning about you inheriting an old house. What a dream! So freaking cool!
I love the idea of telling ourselves a beautiful story. My sister says this to me all the time, but I tend to only remember during the new moon or whatever. And it has been useful in the past. I need to do it more. I also love your advice to make space for transformation by physically decluttering. I like the idea of decluttering but of course I always put it off to make time for working. What if I took this approach of actively inviting in transformation and space for my story with this clearing ritual? Thank you very much for all of the great advice. Chef's kiss.
A timely post as I continue decluttering, having just released the remainder of my writing journals in preparation for moving. Reading about you receiving a home brought a glimmer of relief, as it’s not a common occurrence. Less than 6 weeks to go… I’m dreaming my way through 🎶💫✨☀️🏡🙏🥰