There’s a Goethe quote that has followed me for nearly 3 decades: “Whatever you do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.”
Those words have shaped so many of my creative endeavors. They remind me that sometimes the most important thing is simply to begin, even if doubt lingers at the edges. Over the years, I’ve collected stories that continue to ground me in this truth — stories of glass castles, windmills, and the people who believed in me when I wasn’t so sure of myself.
Glass Castles
When I was in my late teens, I played poker with some guys from school in one of their family’s garage. Their parents would sometimes let us use the space, and one night their mom invited me into the house. Inside, I was amazed by the beauty of her stained glass windows and lamps. Even more impressive, she told me she had made them all herself — and then offered to teach me.
With her generous guidance, her tools, and materials, she helped me learn by walking me through the steps to put together my first project: a small six-piece sun catcher with pressed flowers in the center. Later, I gave it to my grandmother for her birthday. She hung it proudly in the living room window, where it stayed for years until both she and my grandfather were gone.
I still remember her excitement when I gave it to her. She and Grandpa were always extremely supportive of my sister and me in any creative endeavor. She was always proud when either of us had learned something new, and when I shared my idea of someday building a three-dimensional stained glass castle with agate slices in the towers, she didn’t question it. She simply said that whatever I made would be mine alone — unlike anything anyone else would create.
I’ve yet to make the glass castle, though I created many other stained glass pieces over the years, often incorporating agates and other items from our grandparents’ rock shop. Still, I’ll never forget Grandma’s pride and her unwavering belief that what I created had value simply because it came from me.
Windmills
Years later, when my son was about eleven or twelve, we took on a different, and very ambitious project together: building a windmill for a school project for “International Day.” True to our nature, we couldn’t just keep it simple. The tower was built from foam core panels held together with hot glue, and the paddles were balsa wood. We spent days working on it, staying up late, trying to bring our oversized vision to life.
Because we aimed so big, we almost didn’t finish on time. On the final night before it was due, there were tears, plenty of frustration, and the real possibility that we’d have nothing to show at the open house. But somehow, we pushed through.
At the open house, my son stood proudly beside the windmill we had made — nearly three feet tall — only to notice another student’s version close by. Their windmill was maybe six or eight inches tall, neatly made, simple, and to the point. Both projects received a blue ribbon, but the size difference was striking. Neither of us cared. What mattered was that we had finished something ambitious together. We had learned the lessons of persistence.
Overcoming Doubt
Those stories are only two moments in a long history of support I’ve received from family, friends, and acquaintances. I think creative-minded people tend to be encouraging and generous, and I’ve been blessed with so many encounters that made me want to return that same energy back into the world.
Recently, in a moment of extreme doubt, I reached out to my son and asked if he remembered the windmill. Of course he did. I told him I was worried about my building project; what if I start and can’t finish, what if my plan doesn’t work, what if it’s too big, too weird, too much? What if it’s A WINDMILL?! He laughed… “Mom… it’s 1000% a windmill. Why would that stop you? It’s a windmill, and we will finish it anyway.”
Even now, when doubt creeps in — and it does, often — I can count on people like my son, my sister, and many others to remind me of who I am: strong, stubborn, and capable of seeing things through. They help me remember that nothing can dim your light faster than your own fear, and I’m not interested in entertaining things that dim my light.
The Next Beginning
Today, as I step into new projects that feel even more oversized and intimidating than a glass castle or that three-foot windmill, doubt and fear creep in. I’m grateful to have so many people, past and present, who remind me of who I am, and for the Goethe quote, which has become my mantra.
