You might (or might not) remember the custom necklace I made and posted about a while back. I mentioned that it came with a story. Said story is ready to be told.
*insert high-pitched squealing
Let's talk about unicorns for a moment, shall we?
Here's the thing about unicorns: some people believe in them; (many) others don't.
Those who do not believe often don't based on the simple fact that they've never seen a real, live unicorn.
Those who do believe often do so---not because they have seen one---because they believe merely in the possibility.
Belief in possibility changes everything.
I believe in lots of things that don't come packaged in a box with a perfectly tied bow and tangible proof: God, true love, miracles, and unicorns.
Also, pigs that can fly.
I remember hearing, years ago, about the many agents who passed on J.K. Rowling's first Harry Potter manuscript. While the focus was often on those who said "No," the agent I wanted to have lunch with was the one who said "Yes."
Because, no doubt, he believes in unicorns.
I admire the music producers and directors and agents who pluck someone out of obscurity, not because they know that their work will make them a fortune but because they simply can't just walk away from that voice. They have to take a shot. They see how remarkable someone is in the dark, and believe that they have a responsibility to attempt to bring them into the light so that they can bring others out of the dark.
Adam Levine's unicorn: Jordan Smith (yes, it almost always comes back to Adam somehow).
United Feature Syndicate's unicorn: Charles Schultz
Britney Spears' manager Dan Dymtrow's unicorn: Taylor Swift
I think that just finding your unicorn in this world is a miracle in and of itself. You have to be open, you have to trust, you have to be a bit crazy, and you have to be ok with uncertainty.
Which is ironically hysterical because I'm not even a little bit the last one. Ask anyone who's spent more than 2 minutes with me.
So there I was on a normal, average day in October when, through the magic that is a few awesome women procrastinating via Facebook with their triple-shot venti latte, Genevieve Georget's glorious Facebook post showed up in my feed (proving that my friends have fantastic taste in coffee and people).
Among other revelations, she noted that she had always wanted to publish a book, but was afraid no one would think it was worth reading.
I, for one, KNEW it was worth reading. I wanted to read it, so I needed her to write it. Also, I was pretty damn sure that thousands and thousands of other women ALSO needed her to write it. Because THEY needed to read it.
I simply had to try to connect with her. "She will likely never see my message amidst the thousands she's receiving," I thought. "But I'm going to send it anyway."
I took a chance. Because if you don't take the shot, you'll never know. To use her analogy, if you don't let go once you pull back the arrow back, you'll never know if you might have hit the bullseye.
She wrote back.
And we are exactly alike (meaning that I have just a few of her many amazing qualities and she has just a few of my crazy ones).
She freaks out on Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday while I take Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.
We love the Starbucks red cups and give zero thought to the controversy surrounding them.
We're both scared to death every second of every other day.
I've yet to meet her in person, yet I'm pretty sure I've known her for thousands of years.
She let the arrow soar by "outing" our plans this morning.
And we have no idea where this will go. But I'm all in.
Because she's my unicorn.