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There is a tiny bookshop in Paris on the river Seine that I love. If you wander to the back and climb the steep wooden stairs, you’re treated to a lovely little library. Rows of older books line the shelves, not to buy, but to curl up with and read at your leisure. An afterthought; a perfect, organic finish to the room, there sprouts an almost unnoticeable tiny nook. It houses a school desk chair and a typewriter; serving only as a suggestion since the typewriter itself stopped working long ago.


Like leaves on a tree, thousands of scraps of paper are carefully placed at every angle and every way imaginable so that when you sit at the desk, there are incredible sentiments penned everywhere you look. On metro tickets, the back of receipts, scraps of paper are written things like, “Paris summer 2010!!!”, “This is my favorite place in the world”, (and my favorite, which I seek and find every visit), “My Grandfather met my Grandmother here”.


Last summer- alone, full of whimsy, high from Europe- not wanting to come down- ever…. I visited the little nook and paged through a book looking for my own space to write something. I’d sat in the same place many times before, never writing a thing, absorbing instead. I was intimidated, feeling as if only something significant would do. I looked around at all the new love notes, layered upon the old. Suspended at eye level to my left was the phrase Marc and I had thrown back and forth for my entire trip. It said only, “Where are you?” I laughed out loud and gave a nod to the universe and its candid sense of humor. I sat for a minute soaking it all up and finally penned into a tiny corner of a book page, “If you believe everything can happen, then it will”.


Now, months later- I conjure that memory in my head. “I want to live in Miami six months- and then travel for 6 months”, I willed silently, eyes gently closed, breathing into the idea. I sat, allowing myself to explore the possibility of what I “want”. I. Me. Only Meaghan.

It has been almost a year and I am flushed just thinking of the possibilities. My own advice I wrote back in Paris…This is foreshadowing. The foreplay of words. I know it. I’m excited in a way that comes from my instinct tapping me on the shoulder. She’s already seen what happens, and she’s spoiling the ending for me. And yet, not really. I don’t know what is going to happen, but I know I’ve set myself up for something really good.


I’ve learned that whatever I want is certainly possible. I dare to dream. I’m also spontaneous, resourceful and impulsive, so the recipe is there. I’ve thrown myself into unknown adventures so often that the thrill is comfortable, familiar, palpable even. Yet as things come together, the stars align, and everything starts to click into place, I’m still so full of grateful wonder. Do I really get to live this life?

I pass by my vision board, suspended on my wall, every day. The other day, I realized I’d stopped seeing it. Crouching down, as if to press my nose to it, I began to rearrange the magnets to see every detail. I marveled at the beauty of the cohesiveness of the images, like I was seeing them for the first time. I was reading my own treasure map. Fingers gliding across the images and phrases, I wondered how these things would come to fruition. After squirreling away hundreds of images over the year, I painstakingly, purposefully placed pictures that made me feel something, a pull from my subconscious. Perfectly in sync, these pictures were of things I hoped for. Seeing them every day helped guide me to them. That’s the thing, I smiled to myself. Wishes come true.

I have only whimsical fantasies of what this summer holds. For the longest, I didn’t have anything concrete. Except now…Now I have Ireland. After singing loudly in my car, and languidly perusing tour dates stuck in traffic. I now know that on July 14th I’ll be at Mumford and Sons. In Dublin. It is to date, maybe my best impulse purchase, and now serves as the anchor around which my entire summer swings. I’m going back to Europe. It calls! It’s pulling me for something, and I can’t wait to see what.

This means everything. Once I let myself wish for the opportunity, it presents itself. I find when the right things are happening, they are effortless. The elated feeling of sure-footedness and confidence are strong and present. It’s the things that are meant to be, that happen. Although assuredly at their own pace, and at the right time. Being open to opportunities is my key, being patient is my hard part. The journey? That is the best part. Eager and alive, adventurous and willing, confident that everything can, in fact- happen. I am ready.