For me it started as a dream.
But my story really begins before I was born. Biologically, I come from a long line that consists mostly of intelligent women, teachers, and nurses. They were the smart women in their high schools— graduated as valedictorians or salutatorians— but they did not have the same opportunities that were available to me as I came of age.
Cosmically speaking, I am the daughter of a group of women pioneers, “women of the air” or “fly girls” as they were known. Amelia Earhart and Bessie Coleman opened the way for women pilots in the earliest days of aviation. Then Jackie Cochrane, Nancy Love, and the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASP) opened the door for women to fly in the military—a door that slammed closed for several decades after World War II. Then came Captain Rosemary Mariner, Captain Jane O’Dea, Captain M. L. Griffin, and the others who began flying as the Navy opened flight training to women in 1973.
As a fifth grader, I read about Betsy Ross, Juliette Low, Sojourner Truth, Helen Keller, Amelia Earhart, Wilma Rudolph, Louisa May Alcott, Susan B. Anthony, Clara Barton, Marie Curie, and Harriett Tubman. Little did I know their stories would ultimately influence my life in a dramatic way.
As a child on warm summer days in my backyard, I would lie on my back in the grass, examining cloud formations against the clear blue sky. I watched airplanes, but I had no context, no role models to consult about my feelings on flying. When the idea of flying became a dream of mine, there were few female pilots.
Asleep at night in the comfort of my room, I had dreams of flying without an aircraft. With arms outstretched, I would soar over the contours of the rolling hills below, feeling the wind in my face as I flew. Over and over again, as a child and into my adolescent years, I would drift into those dreams at night, sometimes flying high, sometimes low over the peaks and dips of the hillsides. Still today, whenever I see rolling hills like the ones that surrounded my home in Nashville, I am immediately brought back to those dreams.
Then, I had no idea where my dreams might lead. Today, I know where they did.
Last week I wrote about finding your why, but before you start down that path, I ask you to remember your dreams.
What stirred in you? How might you connect with those earliest stirrings to bring your dreams to life? Or how are you helping others realize their dreams?
Remember, Fly high,
Barbara
Need help with your “flight plan”? Drop me a line and let’s get started. Want to know more about where your dreams might lead? Check out my book: Flight Lessons: Navigating Through Life’s Turbulence and Learning to Fly High.
#mentor, #mentorship, #leadership #realizingyourdreams
