Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living. —Jonathan Safran Foer
Hi Brave Dreamer!
Is there a breathtaking moment that lives forever in your memory?
One of those moments where the world feels impossibly big and beautiful and you feel small in the best possible way.
I had one of those moments when I was 14 years old.
As a kid from Wisconsin, I hadn’t traveled much beyond the Midwest. So when I first saw the Grand Teton mountains on a summer trip out west, I was stunned. Those jagged, majestic peaks rising out of the earth?
I stood there in wide-eyed amazement, wondering what it would feel like to stand at the top of one of those mountains.
But back then, it felt more like a fantasy than a future possibility. I didn’t even know the word “fourteener” yet.
I just felt an indescribable shift somewhere deep inside me.
That “grand” moment planted something in me—but it would take years before I understood what it meant.
Here’s the thing: Amazement is the spark. But faith is the fire.
You can be amazed by beauty, music, possibility,.
or a story that cracks your heart open,
but that doesn’t mean it changes your life.
Not unless you do something with that amazement.
It’s like watching an amusement park ride launch someone into the sky like a human slingshot. You might gasp and marvel, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to strap yourself in and go for the ride.
Wonder alone isn’t enough.
To move toward the life you long for, you have to turn that wonder into action. That’s what faith looks like.
Faith isn’t just belief.
It’s trust.
It’s movement.
It’s taking the next step, even when you don’t know exactly where the path leads.
Fast forward 15 years after that trip to the Tetons. I was no longer a teenager staring up at distant mountains—I was standing at the base of one.
Somehow, life had unfolded in a way that brought me to Colorado.
The mountains were no longer postcard images. They were part of my every day. But even then, it still took something more than geography to get me to the top.
Climbing my first 14-er wasn’t easy. There was altitude, exhaustion, uncertainty.
Every step required me to trust my body, to trust the process, and honestly…to trust something bigger than myself.
And when I finally stood at the summit?
The view wasn’t just beautiful. It was sacred.
That initial amazement I felt at 14 had transformed into awe—the kind of awe that fills you with reverence and clarity and a deep knowing that you are part of something vast and meaningful.
It expanded and deepened my understanding of faith.
Faith doesn’t just look at the mountain and admire it.
Faith climbs, stumbles, sweats, rests…and then keeps going.
Maybe you’ve felt this too.
You see someone doing what you’ve always dreamed of—writing the book, starting the business, traveling the world, living with bold purpose—and you feel something spark inside you.
That spark is sacred. But it’s not the end of the story.
If you stop at amazement, you’ll never know what it feels like to live the dream.
It takes something more…
A choice.
A willingness.
A moment when you say: I’m scared and unsure, but I’m going anyway.
The universe keeps sending us invitations like this.
Glimpses of what’s possible. Quiet nudges. Bold dreams that won’t let us go.
And when we stop just admiring and start moving, we open the door to something greater.
Faith never looks like certainty.
It often looks like messy first steps, shaky confidence, and trusting that the path will appear as you walk it.
Faith thrives in uncertainty.
It might mean:
Taking the class even if you don’t know where it’ll lead.
Making the phone call even if you’re afraid of rejection.
Carving out time for your dream even when life is full.
Asking for support or guidance even if you’re used to going it alone.
You don’t need to have it all figured out.
You just need to take the first step—and then the next.
That’s how amazement becomes awe.
That’s how faith becomes action.
And that’s how dreams become your reality.
If something in you is stirring—maybe even aching—pay attention.
There’s a reason you’re drawn to certain ideas or places or people.
There’s a reason you feel lit up when you think about what’s possible.
That’s not an accident.
That’s a message from something bigger—call it the universe, your higher self, or divine guidance.
You aren’t meant to just watch others live amazing stories.
You are meant to live one…your unique, extraordinary story.
So go ahead—be amazed. But don’t stop there.
Step in. Say yes. Climb the mountain.
And when you reach your first summit, don’t be surprised if your breath catches in your throat—not from exhaustion, but from awe.
Because that’s what it feels like when you’ve walked in faith toward a dream that once seemed impossible.
✍Take five minutes today and reflect by asking these two questions
What’s a dream you’ve been amazed by—but haven’t taken action on yet?
What’s one small step you can take today that would turn amazement into movement.
Your dreams need more than wonder and amazement.
And if you feel brave, let me know your first step. I’d love to cheer you on.
If you’ve been staring at your dreams from a distance, my friend,
It’s definitely time to climb.

Kim Byrne is a life and leadership coach, speaker, and founder of Seeds to Stories. Drawing on her experience in software development, product marketing, entrepreneurship, and major life transitions, she helps women in midlife recognize the beliefs, expectations, and outdated roles keeping them stuck — and find the clarity and courage to create what comes next.
Through her coaching, speaking, and Essays from the Gap, Kim explores the human skills that help us live and lead with greater purpose: curiosity, courage, creativity, connection, and self-trust. Her signature Seeds to Stories approach helps people look beneath the surface, tend what matters, and turn small, intentional choices into meaningful change.
Kim lives in Colorado, loves dogs, tea (an occasional mocha), gardening metaphors, and conversations about what makes an ordinary life extraordinary.
One bi-weekly reflection, on the gap between knowing and doing — and what it actually takes to close it.
One bi-weekly reflection, on the gap between knowing and doing — and what it actually takes to close it.





