When I was expecting my son years ago, I prayed every day: "Please give me a happy, healthy, well-adjusted son with a strong backbone and a mind of his own."

As in, make him all the things I'm not. After he was born, I was stuck in a job I couldn't stand, my marriage was rocky, my health was abysmal; things weren't optimal in any arena of my life.

Mothers put way too much pressure on our children, beginning before they're born. We expect them to love us unconditionally, provide us with rich, memorable experiences and fulfill all the dreams we deferred. Not too much to ask of a small child.

Instead of creating another human being and making him a repository for all my neuroses and flaws, perhaps I should have started working on myself. It took me many years to reach the point where I was able to honestly examine where I was in life.

It wasn't until I saw the tail-end of an Oprah show about the new-age film, the Secret, that I started to wonder how much of this I had done to myself. And I was shocked at the answer. Every time I said, "I'll stay in this job, for now", or "I'll keep the status quo of this dysfunctional marriage," I made my choice. Each interim measure that lasted for years had my fingerprints all over it.

So I opened up to the notion of possibility. Hope. Grace. And found that I could turn the light on in my own life if I just had a little faith.

Wide Open Spaces

Everyone contains the breadth of eternity inside them.

Galaxies of possibility,
Dark matter, shooting stars.

We think we have no say in the matter,
That we are but specks on the continuum of time.

But every time we do the right thing
Even when nobody is looking,

Each time we "take it on faith,"
New worlds form and supernovas burst into being.

The horizon's wide open now, the past has been jettisoned.

Open my eyes to what is possible
And my heart to what's true.

Map out the uncharted skies for me so I know I'm on my way.

-Ruth Williams