Dreams don’t reach for you — you reach for them.

Many of you might be reaching for something.

It’s what you told your parent’s friends who asked what you wanted to be when you grew up. It’s what you do on your day off when you finally have time.

It’s what your Pinterest Boards are named for.

Your dream — it sometimes it just seems unattainable doesn’t it?

It’s not though, and here’s why I know.

With the arrival of spring came winter. I don’t know why this happened, but it’s April and I’m freezing.

And no one wants to freeze in April.

When it’s yucky outside (and by that I mean below 40 degrees, because I hate cold weather) I find myself gravitating to two things: my recliner and the TV.

So basically, the crappy weather has forced me to become an American Idol and The Voice junkie.

Really it’s all Hulu’s fault.

I always knew that I would like both of these shows but I couldn’t watch them without cable. Now, although they run one day behind the networks, I can basically stay caught up.

And by staying caught up, I mean on the shows, not on anything else. Like laundry. Or knowing where my children are — just kidding, I can hear them upstairs fighting.

Really though, I don’t call it binge watching. I call it research.

I don’t watch the shows for the superstar judges. I love to see people reaching for their dreams. Watching people bloom is the most inspiring thing — especially when people are right on the verge of everything they ever wanted.

These people amaze me.

I want to bottle their courage and sprinkle it on me when sitting at home trying not to fear my own dreams. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to have Lionel Richie hand me a golden ticket to Hollywood, or for Blake Shelton and Adam Levine to fight over who gets to be my coach.  

Of course, I am not looking to go to Hollywood. I am a decent singer, and get up every once in a while for a church solo, but I can’t imagine how scary it would to stand on a stage in front of America. Especially since social media was invented.

I admire people willing to put themselves out there.

I cry for them as they walk away with a no, because I have felt that disappointment. But when they make it to the next round and live to see another day, I find myself hopeful too. Not just for them, but for myself too.

Hope is contagious.

Maybe if that twenty-something can dress in sequins and belt out some Aretha Franklin, this almost-forty can email that publishing company with a book proposal.

Because here’s what I have learned after all this research:

Dreams don’t reach for you — you reach for them.

These people have worked hard for their moment on stage. After hours of practice, their feet hit the pavement to get themselves out there. They hurt for it, and they bleed for it.

Yet here I sit in front of my phone, rooting them on with tears rolling down my face. Meanwhile over on my computer where I should, a blinking cursor waits for words; and a quiet keyboard waits for my fingers to hit the keys.

Honestly, I should be working harder.

It’s easier to watch other people put themselves out there but terrifying to do it myself. Rejection (or the fear of it) is truly exhausting, and especially for the heart. Giving up seems so easy sometimes, especially when there are so many other things I’d rather be doing.

But in rare moments of quiet at my house, my heart asks me not to stop trying. So I won’t.

I will write a book proposal and hope that one day I will get handed a golden ticket. And if I do, you will be the first to know — especially if I have you on Facebook.

I hope that you won’t give up either. Whatever it is you want to do — do the work.

Reach for that golden ticket, and I have a feeling you will one day find it.