For five years now I have been writing wishes and sharing them here every week.

I’ve done a lot of thinking, here and on my own, about how scary and fraught it can be to reveal wishes, even to myself, never mind TO THE INTERNET. How wishing itself is intensely vulnerable. Not an easy practice.

I’ve also done a lot of thinking about sneaking around the hard, writing in code.

It occurred to me this week that I have not given nearly as much head-and-heart time to acknowledging the beautiful and sometimes miraculous things that have resulted from this practice.

I’ve forgotten to pause and look back at the winding path. I’ve been looking at where I might want to go and how I might have an easier time getting there. Not enough pause-and-picnic.

Thank you, winding path that brought me here.

For sure I think about the lovely thing we have going here, the community, the ritual, the space for it. And that’s usually kind of as far as it goes.

And of course I say thank you in advance, and in a way that is also saying thank you to past me for the past wishes, thank-you forwards-and-back, in all directions.

It’s just, sometimes I forget. So many lovely and amazing things seeded by past-me that might never have come into form if I hadn’t processed those desires (and the fear around desiring them).

I don’t really have a mechanism for acknowledging the delights of all the gifts I have received from past wishes and the process of wishing.

And here’s the thing, these gifts are amazing, and sometimes even include the thing I was wishing for, but often that is the least interesting part of the treasure. The even-better treasure comes from the wishes themselves.

And two hundred and fifty one weeks of wishing have generated all kinds of beautiful things that I forget to notice and appreciate.

For example!

For example, this week I posted a picture of me from the Guns N Rollers 80s prom on Saturday, wearing a zebra-print mini-dress and five inch heels.

The next morning I suddenly remembered, this was a Wish from nearly two years ago: to feel comfortable having pictures taken, and sharing them.

That wish seemed like The Most Unimaginably Impossible Far-Away thing, and now it’s no big deal and I forget to say: THANK YOU. Thank you, past-me. Thank you, past wishes. Thank you for all the gifts in my life that I forget to notice.

For example. Once I thought the scariest thing to wish for was feeling glamourous, and now I insist upon it. I never would have learned about the secret holiness of glamour if it hadn’t been for that original wish, I think it was a Bond Girl wish.

For example. I had a wish about being a calm activist, standing up to things without being filled with anger, and now I can do that.

For example: So many qualities that seemed distant and unattainable (Harmony, Congruence, Sovereignty, Spaciousness) are now old friends. And yes, it is funny that they seem distant and yet that is still the perception.

Even though qualities by definition cannot be distant since they’re all interconnected and you can just breathe them, there is a big difference between understanding that conceptually and letting go of the perception of “I am not good at [Love]” or “I don’t know how to connect to [Trust]”.


And there are many more examples of wishes I made that changed how I am in the world, or things I received from doing the work to investigate my wishes.

I don’t need to remember every example, but I do want to remember every time I make a wish that I will receive so much from wishing:

Everything that comes from writing out this wish is a gift for incoming-me. And maybe she will laugh about how I ever thought this particular thing was hard and complicated.

The essence of this wish — all of its qualities — will be in her life in exactly the right form, and it will be no big deal, and she will glow a happy thank-you back to me of right now.

If I close my eyes and pause and breathe, I can feel it.

Come play.

If you want to say thank you to past-you for past-wishes, or to plant some love for incoming-you, those are both welcome.

You can also share appreciation for the practice, sparks sparked for you, or seed some extra wishes, or whisper magic words.

As always, this is hard stuff. Of course it is. It’s about desire, and whenever we interact with desire there is pain about all the times we didn’t have what we need, and about the vulnerability of wanting.

So: we all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. It’s a process. We interact with our stuff and with each other with kindness, curiosity and patience to the best of our abilities.

I have endless appreciation for everyone who reads: knowing that you are here helps me write a wish every week. So really it is you I have to thank.

Thank you thank you thank you.
The Fluent Self