The Treehouse I Never Got

I'm terrified of not doing the things I dream of doing in life.

It's a huge reason I'm drawn to life coaching–helping people actually do and accomplish the things they want to accomplish instead of just thinking about them.

This desire goes wayyyy back to my childhood. I grew up in a small town. My parents own a home on a fairly large piece of property with a hill situated right behind the house. At the top of that hill sits an oak tree.

For as long as I can remember, I wanted a treehouse. My own little escape at the top of the hill.

Thankfully, my dad was a contractor for a time and good with woodworking. He agreed to build one, and I was going to help. I was so excited!

I loved watching the structure slowly come together. I had a whole vision for the interior–it was going to be travel themed. I was going to put up a large world map on the wall and dream about traveling the world. I was going to sit on the ledge and watch the sunsets. It would be a magical little place just for me to exist.

The work started out consistent: the posts went up along with a ladder, then slowly the framework for walls and a roof. And then it stopped.

I don't even remember when or why the treehouse never got completed, but it never did. It sat there as a skeleton of the sanctuary I was so excited to have.

I look back at that experience now with so much sadness. Whenever I see that rotting chunk of wood still sitting in the tree on the hill, I feel sorry for my younger self. I didn't understand why it didn't get finished. Maybe life got too busy. Maybe the work became overwhelming. I genuinely don't know.

But I'll never know what having a treehouse during my childhood would have felt like. And that hurts.

I can’t honestly say that I’m grateful for the lesson. I'm just sad.

I don't want that feeling in my life—the regret that something I desperately wanted never happened because "life got in the way" or it got "too hard." And I don't want my clients to carry it either.

I think about this a lot when I picture the end of my life. Did I go after the things I wanted? Did I prioritize my dreams, aspirations, needs, and desires? Or did I tell myself there wasn't enough time, that I wasn't capable, that it wasn't possible?

It's not enough to simply want something. Nor is it enough to just start.

Sitting with the "missed opportunity" feeling is so heavy. I'm not suggesting we be dangerously rebellious and say “yes” to everything and anything—just that we resist not finishing something simply because it's hard, it gets boring, it takes a long time, or it feels overwhelming or impossible.

I'll never get that treehouse back. But I’ll be damned if I don’t finish the things I set out to do now.