When You Wish Upon a Star
“When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you
If your heart is in your dream.”
It all begins there — if your heart is in your dream.
More than anything else, it is we ourselves who place the greatest limits on what is possible. We blame circumstances, point to others, list excuses. We seek comfort in reasons why something can’t be done, instead of devoting ourselves to discovering how it can.
But what if, instead, you committed—truly, wholeheartedly—to finding a way? What if you resolved to pursue your goals no matter the obstacle? You might just find that you’re capable of far more, in far less time, than you ever imagined.
Daunting? Yes.
Unlikely? Perhaps.
Possible? Absolutely.
Belief lives in the space of possibility. It lives where you aim for the target, pursue the position, or strive to match the record. And here lies the key: if your heart is in it—and you’re willing to give everything you’ve got—then you’re already tipping the odds in your favor.
Life grants us the chance to learn. Every new beginning is humbling. It’s in your first attempts that failure is most likely. But with each effort, each trial, each stumble forward, you collect pieces of the puzzle—pieces that bring you closer to success.
What truly accelerates success across any domain is the realization that you can improve your capacity to learn. You begin to understand how you learn best—what to ask, how to ask it, and how to practice with focus and intention. You learn that repetition sharpens instinct, and deliberate action builds skill.
And so, if your heart is in your dreams — keep going.
The Voice Within
“Prove yourself brave, truthful, and unselfish,
And someday you will be a real boy…
You must learn to choose between right and wrong.”
(How will I know?)
“Your conscience will tell you.”
What would your life look like if you unwaveringly listened to your conscience?
No doubt, it would be hard to claim that you always have. Few of us can. But you can look back and clearly feel the difference: the times you did versus the times you didn’t. There’s a tangible thread of truth in your story—moments when you stood tall, because your feet were firmly planted on ground made solid by integrity.
There is no firmer ground than truth. Speaking the truth is the act of aligning with your conscience. It is the real test of courage—not because you know what the consequences will be, but because you don’t. You risk rejection, conflict, discomfort. But you choose to face what is, without illusion, without distortion.
We’ve all skirted around the truth. Twisted our words. Lied outright. Often in pursuit of some short-term gain, comfort, or approval. But you know the feeling: your stomach tightens, your words evade, your body betrays you. Even if no one can quite place it, something’s off. As the story goes:
“A lie keeps growing until it’s as plain as the nose on your face.”
And yet, there are moments when your words ring with clarity—where they feel channeled rather than forced. You speak with quiet authority, and others lean in. This is truth in action. This is the voice within — your conscience — guiding you.
But speaking the truth is only one side of the coin. Listening is the other. You observe. You receive. You learn. And in doing so, you grow in wisdom—not just in what to say, but how, and why. This is learning in alignment with truth.
The Temptation to Turn Away
In Pinocchio, Jiminy Cricket is appointed Pinocchio’s conscience — the “Lord High Keeper of the Knowledge of Right and Wrong.” But as he says,
“A conscience is that still, small voice that people won’t listen to.”
Early in the story, Pinocchio is lured from school by the sly Honest John and Gideon, who promise him fame and fortune. Jiminy warns him, but Pinocchio ignores the voice within. He is sold to Stromboli, a puppeteer who exploits him for profit, and cages him when he resists.
Only through an act of grace is Pinocchio freed — but only after he tells the truth.
Grace often comes with a quiet whisper:
“You stumbled. You fell. But you’re still alive. Now learn. And do better.”
It’s a second chance. But it’s not unconditional. It demands responsibility in return: “I’ve learned. I’ll be better.” Redemption is the return to conscience. The choice to walk the straight and narrow path. You once were blind — but now you see. Vision, clarity, and direction are the gifts of grace.
And yet, temptation returns.
Honest John and Gideon lure Pinocchio again — this time to Pleasure Island. A place where there are no rules. No accountability. Just indulgence.
Jiminy warns him once more. Pinocchio doesn’t listen.
There’s a cost. There’s always a cost. He is transformed — donkey ears, a tail — physical reminders of moral failure. And though he narrowly escapes, the marks remain. These are the consequences that linger, even after the lesson has been learned.
“Now, you see, the world is full of temptations…
They’re the wrong things that seem right at the time…
But even though the right things may seem wrong sometimes,
or sometimes the wrong things… may be right at the wrong time…
Understand?”
Life is confusing. Temptation doesn’t always wear a villain’s face. Right and wrong often blur. That’s why we need our conscience. It’s the compass in the storm. But you have to choose to listen. And often, we don’t — until the whisper becomes a roar. Until the cost becomes too great. Until rock bottom forces us to look up.
The Descent and the Rise
When Pinocchio learns that his father, Geppetto, has gone in search of him and is now trapped in the belly of the monstrous whale, Monstro, he begins the final act of his transformation.
He descends to the ocean depths — into the unknown, into the underworld — to rescue the one who gave him life.
Just the name “Monstro” sends creatures fleeing. But Pinocchio presses on. He faces fear, sacrifice, and death itself — not for reward, not for pride, but for love.
Inside Monstro’s belly, he finds Geppetto. They reunite, and Pinocchio hatches a plan to escape — lighting a fire to provoke the whale to sneeze them out. Geppetto warns him of the danger. But they have no other choice.
He lights the fire within.
They are expelled — but Monstro gives chase in a fury. The path to freedom is never without resistance. The closer you get, the more violently you’re tested.
Pinocchio pulls Geppetto to safety — but in the process, loses his own life.
And in that final, selfless act — he becomes real.
That is the transformation: not from puppet to boy, but from self-serving to self-giving. He has proven himself brave, truthful, and unselfish.
He has answered the call. He has walked the path. He has become what he was meant to be.
The Journey Forward
Every action, every decision shapes who you are becoming.
Temptation may be loud or subtle, but the voice of conscience is always there — still, small, quiet, true.
And if, in your heart, you can manage to hear it — through confusion, through fear, through uncertainty — and follow it…
You will find the path.
You will stand on firm ground.
You will become real.
Hear the call.
See the path.
Feel the way.
Taste the moment.
Breathe the air.
You’re alive.
Now go live like it.
Andres E. Findlay 
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