Choose. The Magic Will Meet You

She almost let it go.

Not in frustration, not in defeat—just in the quiet way dreams start to fade when life gets busy, when people expect you to make “smart” choices, when it feels easier to do what’s practical instead of what makes your heart race.

On the surface, she had the whole package—a steady job, a respectable trajectory. Nights spent at fine restaurants, weekends filled with live performances and social gatherings. She had recognition, stability, credentials—the kind of success that made people nod approvingly.

And in many ways, it was enough. She had built a good life, one that made sense, one she could be proud of.

But something was missing.

Not obvious, not overwhelming—just a quiet absence, a space where something more should have been. A song she never sang aloud. A longing she had pushed aside.

And so, she prepared to walk away—not just from a dream, but from the part of herself that had always known it was meant for more. She told herself it wasn’t abandonment. Just being realistic.

Until the moment came—the one where she heard a song she hadn’t sung in years.

It caught her off guard—one note, then another, flooding back memories of who she wanted to be. And suddenly, the thought of walking away felt like suffocation.

Don’t die with your music still inside you.

She didn’t need permission. She didn’t need applause.

She only needed to Sing.

So she took the step—toward what she had always known was hers to pursue.

It wasn’t easy. She had talent, but she could feel there was another level waiting—one she hadn’t reached yet. And in the act of choosing to move forward, the way appeared.

A guide—not to hand her success, but to challenge her hesitation.

"You already know the answer," he said. "The question is whether you’ll act on it."

The road wasn’t easy. The others who had walked it before her had struggled, doubted, wanted to turn back. But none of them had.

Not because success was promised. Not because certainty was guaranteed.

But because they could not be anything but this.

And neither could she.

A Singer, not just in name, but in truth.

And sometimes, Beginning is Everything.

RiverSong Reflections

~Patrick Cunningham