It started with a dream and a few little seeds.

Creating something new—something truly yours—is never an easy road. There are no guarantees, no promises. But if you don’t try, how will you ever know what might have bloomed?

So I took my seeds, wrapped them in damp paper towels, and began my journey.

Within a couple of days, a seed or two had already popped. It was exciting—but with that excitement came pressure. Pressure to do it right. To keep them alive. To prove that I could do this, first try! (Because for some reason, that's how my brain works)

A few more days passed. Nothing changed. The paper towels had dried out despite my efforts to water regularly.

I thought I’d failed them. The sprouts looked brittle, barely holding on—and in that moment, it felt like my dream was slipping through my fingers.

But then I handed them to someone who had walked this path before. He looked at them, then looked at me and said:

“They’re still alive.”

And just like that, so was my dream.