One January years ago, I was driving to an appointment when I heard an NPR story about New Year’s resolutions. It featured a woman who had started a running regimen some years earlier with all the enthusiasm we typically feel on January 1. But her story was notable for one important reason:
She’d stuck with it.
How did she do it?
She didn’t set a goal of joining a gym or running group. She didn’t tell herself she’d start slow and build up. She didn’t plan her meals and weigh her carb intake.
What did she do?
“I set one goal every morning: To put on my running shoes.”
What? I just about ran my car off the road.
She. Put. On. Her. Shoes.
The brilliance blindsided me. She wasn’t focusing on her running goal at all. Instead, she sneaked up on it with one act that made it the next logical thing to do.
Hey, I’ve got my shoes on. I might as well step outside. Oh, look, my feet are moving. Maybe I could walk to the end of the driveway.
From there, she was off and running. Literally.
That one piece of wisdom has motivated me many, many times in the past years. And now that we’re almost at the mid point of 2025, it’s popping up again.
I’ve learned the hard way how easy it is to turn a goal into a source of pressure. Sometimes, just writing it down makes it feel so heavy and high-stakes that I stall before I ever begin. It’s not that I don’t believe in dreaming big—I do. But big dreams can sometimes have the opposite effect of what we intend: instead of motivating us, they freeze us. We fixate on the finish line and forget that all progress begins with a small, manageable start.
So now, when I feel that pressure creeping in, I ask myself a different question: What if I stopped trying to conquer the whole mountain and just…put on my shoes? What if I gently sidestepped the overwhelm and let the next right step find me, quietly, naturally—without fanfare or force?
I’ve been experimenting with this approach again. Not by lacing up my sneakers, but by taking the tiniest, most do-able action toward whatever I want to shift. If I want to write, I open the document. That’s it. No pressure to pour out genius or finish the chapter. Just open the file and sit with it for a few minutes.
If I want to meditate, I sit in my favorite chair in the living room, where it’s typically quiet. No stopwatch, no special cushion, no expectations. Just breath, and a tranquil moment.
It’s incredible how often those small acts lead to something more. But even if they don’t—if all I do is open the laptop or sit in the quiet—I’ve still kept the promise to myself. And that, over time, is what builds trust. Momentum. Movement.
I think this isn’t about lowering the bar or playing small. It’s about making space for grace. It’s about respecting how change really happens: one tiny choice at a time, repeated with love.
So, as we tip toward summer, I’m asking myself—and maybe you want to ask yourself, too:
What’s one “put-on-your-shoes” move I could make today?
Not the whole goal. Not the ten-step plan. Just the one little thing that nudges me in the direction of my heart.
I have a hunch that’s where the miracle lives. Not in the giant leap, but in the simple, sacred start.
With blessings,
Deb
A Community of Miracles—Then and Now
Yesterday, I spent time with several dear friends who were part of my A Course in Miracles classes back before the pandemic, when we met in person at our home here in Madison County.
We caught up on each other’s lives and reminisced about what it was like to sit in the same room, sharing stories, learning the principles of the Course, and lifting each other up.
One woman, in particular, spoke with longing about how much she misses having a spiritual community. She doesn’t have one now, and she feels the absence deeply.
Her words reminded me how fine the line is between having a spiritually nourishing community—and not. So many people today are without a space that truly feeds them, emotionally or spiritually. It makes the changes in the world around us that much more overwhelming, especially when those changes are fueled by blame, greed, and aggression.
Through this Substack, my Zoom classes, and upcoming offerings, I try to create ways for people to feel grounded, inspired, and connected to themselves, Spirit, and other human beings. To find that deep spiritual connection within ourselves so that we can share it in community.
That’s why I named this Substack column A World of Your Own, because I fully believe that each of us has the power to create a better world by activating our own inner power, not by focusing on what the rest of the world is doing. That’s why my messages are always about going inside to find your own answers. My columns, books, and classes are not ever going to be about blaming someone else or complaining about what the world is up to, because I believe that’s the most disempowering thing you can do.
At any moment, no matter how toxic the world appears, you can come back inside yourself—not to the part of you that’s angry or afraid, but to the part that feels a deep presence of peace. I realize it’s not always easy, but with the support of others, we can find our way back to love again and again. And then WE have the power—the power to share compassion, generosity, and light with others in our daily decisions and actions—and to find a way forward with clarity rather than frustration or angst.
I hope this column can become a hub of that—a space where we can more actively share reflections on peace, healing, and inner strength, and support each other on the journey.
To that end, the next six months of my A Course in Miracles study group starts in July. Here are the details if you’re interested in joining.
And this fall, I’ll be offering a new program that takes us deeper inward—into the heart of:
INPowerment
INCouragement
INBodiment
INLightenment
It’s a journey into the Self—a chance to strengthen your connection with Spirit, with your inner guidance, and with a community of others who are walking the same path. More details will be coming soon.
In the meantime, I’ll be posting some of my favorite stories and quotes—the ones that help me stay centered, inspired, and aligned.
It’s not quite the same as sitting together in our living room, but I know that we can create community through a Zoom discussion—or even through comments on a post. I love the fact that the energy of community is rooted in connection, not physical space.
I’d love to hear from you. What kinds of things help you feel connected? What would you like to see here to help make this a more vibrant, supportive, and cohesive community?
Please feel free to put your thoughts in the chat, or reach out to me at deb@debraengle.com.
With gratitude,
Deb
“A WORLD OF YOUR OWN” IS A READER-SUPPORTED PUBLICATION. To receive new posts and support my work, please consider becoming a paid subscriber.
A NOTE TO MY READERS: I write “A World of Your Own” as a member of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative, which is led by Julie Gammack, of Des Moines. I’m honored to be part of this group, featuring the diverse voices of more than 70 professional writers and journalists across the state of Iowa.I encourage you to check out their columns.
Love this Debra. Such a good metaphor and reminder!
Lovely. Thank you, Debra.