How I Want it to Feel

I want my day to feel like a birthday party at Disneyland with no lines to wait in.
I want kissing to feel like hot mulled wine on a winter's night.
I want my next success to feel like getting an A+ from my most demanding professor.
I want my body to feel like a prima ballerina at the height of her career.
I want smiling to feel like the first day of spring.
I want my friendships to feel like cashmere sweaters and home-baked muffins and disco balls and whispered midnight confessions.
I want my nervous system to feel like a direct conduit to the universe.
I want my neighborhood to feel like what people dream of when they dream of Paris.
I want my integrity to feel like Yosemite.
I want my money-making to feel like a well-tended organic garden brimming over with succulent, nourishing veggies.
I want my word to feel like a sailor's knot.
I want my laughter to feel like popping a bottle of pink champagne.
I want the end of the day to feel like a cat basking in a patch of sunlight.
I want my philanthropy to feel like planting seeds in rich soil.
I want my challenges to feel like a beautiful, complex 1000-piece puzzle.
I want my love to feel like a murmuration of starlings.
I want my writing to feel like Jane Austen and J.K. Rowling got together for a game of laser tag.
I want my ideas to feel like giant unfurling peonies.


*Writing prompt from Danielle LaPorte's Burning Questions series.