Everything Was About to Change

She barely caught the train. Not that another train wouldn’t be coming by in fifteen minutes, but the 1 train ran local and it was already going to be another forty-five minutes before the train got to her stop at 231st Street, the second to last stop on the 1 line. She was out of breath but she made it. Whew!

She sat down and breathed a heavy sigh. It had been a really long day. The last few days of the semester were always difficult. But today so many students begged for opportunities to do extra credit to improve their grades. And so many students were totally pissed off because her response was, “There is no extra credit in my class. Go back and read the syllabus. Do the assigned work and accept the grade you earn.” Too many responded, “But I didn’t get a chance to do…” She always put her hand up and stopped them.

“I explained this clearly at the beginning of the semester. There is no extra credit in the real world. If you have a job, do the work. You don’t get to do something extra to make up for the work you didn’t do but were paid to do. If you don’t get your work done, you don’t have a job to come back to. My job is to prepare you for the real world.”

Some day, they will appreciate the life lessons she provided them. Today wasn’t that day.

As the train moved from stop to stop, more and more people exited the train. She put her earphones in, turned on a guided meditation, and closed her eyes for a few minutes to ground and center herself and to release the stress of the day. Maybe she fell asleep.

When she opened her eyes, she was alone in her subway car. She looked around. At this point in her commute, the 1 train ran above ground. She loved the city. She had moved to Southern California for several years to care for her elderly, medically-fragile mother. Every day that she was away, she longed to be back in New York. She watched certain television shows not because they were necessarily good, but because they were filmed in the city. When her mother died, she moved back to New York. Despite the difficult days on campus, this was where she felt most at home.

She felt something under her leg. She adjusted herself and noticed a small black notebook. It wasn’t hers. Where did it come from? Who had been sitting close to her? She couldn’t remember.

She picked up the notebook and opened it, hoping to find the name of its owner so she could return it. To her surprise, the name inside was hers. What?! She didn’t own a small black notebook. A beautiful lime green Moleskine journal, yes, and a purple bullet journal, but not a small black notebook.

She turned the page and there was a question: “Are you living a life you love?”

“Wow. Um…” She thought about it for a while. Yes, she was in the city she loved. She was back with her husband and step-daughters who had stayed in New York while she cared for her mother in California. But was she living a life she loved? The answer hit her, “No.” She felt like she had been punched in the gut. So many people dreamed of having the life she had, but she wasn’t happy.

She turned the page and there was another question: “Why or why not?”

She had to think about that for a minute. She had been a college professor for twenty-five years. But she was miserable. She loved teaching—she was a great teacher—but no longer enjoyed teaching in the academy. Higher education was no longer what it had been when she decided to pursue her doctoral degree. She had no tolerance for the politics of the academy or all her colleagues’ egos. Nobody was better than anybody else. They all had Ph.D.s. They weren’t in graduate school anymore. And yet, the egos and the sabotage and the competition were intolerable.

She turned the page again and there was yet another question: “If you could do, be, or have anything, what would that be?” She dropped the notebook.

She used to have dreams but she gave them up in order to provide a certain quality of life for her son. She got married, divorced, and became a single mother as an undergraduate. Her son was born the first day of her final undergraduate semester. She had been accepted to graduate film school at both the University of Southern California and the American Film Institute but she quickly realized that trying to raise a baby in that environment would be impossible. She would have to pay for her own film projects, rent the equipment, pay the actors, and do all the editing, all while raising a baby, paying for diapers, and trying to keep a roof over their heads. She dreamed of a film and Broadway career. Her degree was in Theatre and she performed in dance theatre for twelve years. It was her passion. But she wanted to provide a quality life for her son. Raising a baby while living the life of a starving artist just didn’t seem logical. So she walked away from her dreams.

When she enrolled in graduate school at the university where she earned her undergraduate degree, the plan was to earn her M.F.A. in Theatre but she quickly realized she had already taken all the graduate theatre courses as an undergraduate and there was nothing left for her to take. She took a random Communication course in Argumentation and did really well, so she transferred to that program and ultimately earned her M.A. in Communication.

While she was in graduate school, her mentor asked her to cover her classes while she presented her award-winning research at the national conference. She had never taught before or even thought about teaching but her mentor provided everything she needed, taught her how to create a syllabus and plan a lecture, and encouraged her.

Her first day of teaching was life-changing! Being in front of the classroom was almost as good as being on stage except now she was allowed—expected—to be smart and she wouldn’t get bullied for it. Teaching was obviously the path she was supposed to take so she went on to earn her Ph.D. where she received both teaching and research awards and graduated as a shining star.

At first, she loved teaching. It provided a quality life she had never experienced in her life. She was proud of her accomplishments. But something inside her grieved for the dreams she abandoned. She never dealt with that grief. Could this be a sign from the Universe that it was time to reevaluate her life? Did she have the same dreams now that she had in her twenties? Yes and no. She still loved the theatre but didn’t want to live the life of a starving artist.

She began to dream. She remembered reading something from Emmet Fox many years ago that talked about the heart’s desire. It encouraged people to pay attention to that little voice in the back of our heads that whispers to us but that we ignore because we deem what it’s telling us to be impractical. What was that little voice saying? What was her heart’s desire?

She dreamed of owning a brownstone on the Upper West Side. She dreamed of running an energy-healing business out of her home, of healing chakras and helping others achieve balance in their lives. She dreamed of owning a multi-family property for economically-disadvantaged single parents where she could teach them how to plan menus, create grocery lists, and cook healthy meals on a SNAP budget. She dreamed of teaching her residents how to grow and preserve their own food, and to provide job skills training through her business so they could gain financial independence. She dreamed of being a writer.

Mostly, she dreamed of being of service. She believed with every fiber of her being that her purpose on Earth was to serve others and, by so doing, to make the world a better place.

She was of service as a teacher but not in a way that was aligned with her heart’s desire. Her true dream wasn’t possible in her current job with her current salary. Let’s be honest, brownstones aren’t cheap.

Was it possible for her? Was she worthy of her dream?

She picked up the little black notebook again and opened it. The words had changed. “Is your dream worthy of you?” She gasped. She had certainly never asked herself that question before.

She took a deep breath and turned the page. On it was an image of a tarot card, The Fool.

She dropped the notebook again and buried her face in her hands. Had she just decided to upend her entire life in pursuit of her dream?

The Fool is the first card in the tarot, the beginning of the Fool’s journey. The Fool symbolizes taking a leap of faith. In traditional tarot decks, the image is a happy-go-lucky young person and her/his sidekick, often a dog, about to step off a cliff.

Her heart began to pound so hard she thought it would explode. She was terrified. At the same time, she felt exhilarated. It had been such a long day but she was suddenly full of energy. She couldn’t wait to get home and clarify her dream and write out her vision. This little black notebook was the perfect place to do that.

An overwhelming calm swept over her. She was utterly alone in this subway car but she wasn’t alone. It was as if her ancestors had gathered around and applauded and celebrated her. For the first time in a very long time, she knew hope.

The train pulled into the station at 231st Street. She exited and descended from the platform. Tonight, that godawful staircase at the end of the road didn’t even phase her. She bounded up the stairs but then noticed a small bag off to the side. Did she dare pick it up and look inside? There was always trash but this didn’t look like trash.

She paused, took a deep breath, and trusted her intuition. She slowly opened the bag and inside was a check made out to her in the amount of $20,000. Twenty. Thousand. Dollars!! What?! How was this possible? Again, she felt her ancestors surround her and celebrate her. Magic is real, she thought. This money would give her the opportunity to resign from her position so she could build her dream but still pay her bills.

Tears of joy streamed down her face as she climbed the remaining stairs and headed down the street to her apartment.

When she got inside, she told her husband they needed to talk. He bristled, “What did I do this time?” “Nothing,” she laughed. “I had an epiphany. I’d like to share it with you.”

She shared her dream and her vision with her husband. He just smiled. “I’ve been waiting for this,” he said. “I knew you had a dream. I’m so happy you finally found it.”

Together, they brainstormed options and steps to take. In the morning, she would create a vision board. She would build a website and launch her blog. She would research brownstones and multi-family properties. And together, they would identify what they could do now, where they were, with what they had. Baby steps were fine as long as they were steps forward.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. Her entire body relaxed into his embrace.

Anything was possible. And everything was about to change.