What I saw tonight from my bedroom window just begs for a metaphor.

No I was not skulking with a pair of binoculars; I was hanging on the window frame laughing with pure glee at the sight of dozens of fire works displays.

I've never seen anything like it. I didn't know where to look first. Silver starbursts to my left; multi-coloured Roman candles to my right. For two hours non-stop the Victoria Day celebrations filled the sky with fun.

What I was thinking was how I describe myself to people. How I have one foot firmly planted on the earth, thanks to my humble Ukrainian peasant heritage; and how I have one foot floating just about the ground as if to fly.

People don't like to hear that. These are serious times don't you know? Keep your nose to the grindstone, keep your head down. If you don't have high blood pressure, an ulcer or chronic anxiety, well, you're just not working hard enough are you? Forget the little black dress. The must have accessory for the new millennium is a grim and serious countenance. Doesn't matter what you're wearing as long as you look like you mean business.

When however, you admit to having flights of fancy, you might be branded....GASP....a dreamer.

I'll tell you though. I can wrap this one up in a box, tie it with pink ribbon and hand it to you with a grin. IF, I hadn't been reaching for the sky....IF I hadn't had the imagination, the will and the perseverance to reach for a dream....I wouldn't have been in the position to watch splendour fill the sky tonight. I would have been exactly where so many of you are. Stuck. Mired. Miserable. And afraid.

Dreaming is our birthright. Don't be afraid to look up. Cast your dream in the sky and follow it.

I had a mini-breakdown today. It was the kind of performance any actress would have given her eye-teeth to duplicate. Except I wasn't acting.

Three weeks ago I moved into my own place AGAIN. After 14 months of self-enforced "homelessness", the reasons for which were to better my financial situation and to steer my life's course in the direction of my own choosing, I was HOME. It's just an apartment, 21 stories above the earth. It's nothing special to look at it. But until the day comes when I can move into the home of dreams, I will be happy here.

Slowly over the past three weeks I have been getting everything in order, finding homes for treasured possessions, setting up my office and generally becoming "one" with my space.

I left the books for last. Too many to even think about. The numbers stagger me. 3500 and counting. I was waiting till bookcases were assembled and for the strength to tackle this monumental job. Moving itself and my first cold in 5 years took a lot out of me, but today I was ready.

My iTunes were blaring from the laptop and two things happened at once. Roy Orbison started belting out "Unchained Melody" and I opened a box of books that was especially precious to me. I heard Roy pledging his undying love and held a book I had not see in over 14 months, one that I have owned for 40 years and...I lost it.

All the despair and longing I have suffered since early last year, all the fear, all the heartbreak came flooding back. In order not to scare the new neighbours, I held in the primal sounds that were building at the back of my throat, but gave in to a hot, furious flood of tears and bent in half clutching my book to my chest.

Dozens of images, remembered conversations, disappointments and the heavy weight of the unbearable longing I felt every day of those 14 months came back to me in a rush.

Then just as quickly as it came upon me, it was gone.

I dried my tears and made a sandwich.

The reason why I didn't dissolve into a little puddle of bitter regret was that bigger, more powerful, and infinitely more beautiful images started to over-write the embedded memories of despair.

Pictures of my few loyal friends and family, helping me and holding me; pictures of achieving my dream of becoming a certified and now fully operational Life Coach and entrepreneur; pictures of the blessed sweetness of love and hope....all flashed before my eyes and the tears dried in the presence of grace and glory.

I mention this for two reasons.

The first is obvious and you don't even need a coach telling you....hope never dies. EVER. As Emily Dickinson, prophet and poet said, "Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all."

And secondly, when I held that little book in my hands, an antique Pinocchio it was, I looked at it after 40 years with new eyes. I held the same love and reverence for it that I always had, but because it was lost to me for so long, it was fresh and beautiful to behold. I loved it anew.

That happened to me the other night, only not with a book, but with my beloved. New stories, new courage, new laughter....everything I love and respect about this person still existed, but there was MORE. The learning never ends. It never should. Love and the ability to cherish do not and will not ever be held by boundaries. They are an infinite expression of hope.

See if you can exceed your boundaries today. Look at something or someone with new eyes. If it's your fridge that beckons, get out the cloth and soap, rearrange the shelves and toss the limp green onions. So when it gets to dinner time, I swear you'll have an extra thrill when you open the door and everything looks fresh and beckoning.

If it's a person, well, I don't have to say anything. You'll find out yourself. When you lose your expectations and conditioned responses, whether you've known someone forever, or only a fraction of forever, once you look at them "anew" you'll know the true meaning of the word WONDER.