On the edge of a fountain in Nashville, Tennessee, with a 1993 penny between my palms and my eyes squeezed shut.
I won’t say what I wished for, but I will tell you that I know it’s going to come true. And it may not be for the reason you think.
Over my almost 19 years of life, I’ve come to realize that life isn’t going to hand anything to me. Luck may very well be a powerful outlook for some, but for me it’s no more than a self-fulfilling prophecy.
My dream of moving to Nashville isn’t just something I hope to reach by wishing on stars and pennies and birthday candles. It’s something I know I’ll have to climb to, and I’ve already recognized that fact.
The dream is so huge and so prominent in my heart that I can’t imagine settling for anything less. In the past, maybe I settled for less than what my heart was really after. But I can’t bring myself to do that again.
So I know that wish will come true. Not because of a dull piece of copper that now sits on concrete.
But because of the unrelenting pursuit of a dreamer’s heart.