Start with a free phone call

Journey Wishes: The Invisible Wishes We Sew into New Beginnings

Jennifer Ayres
August 6, 2026

Summer reminds us that every season eventually changes. A psychologist’s reflection on new beginnings, parenting, and the invisible wishes we carry into every life transition.

“Summer” brings a lot of emotions and memories for most of us.

Fireworks,
the smell of sunscreen,
the taste of watermelon,
the sticky feel of ice cream as it drips down your fingers,
the indulgence of staying up late and getting to sleep in,
the dramatic contrast between blazing hot concrete and the beckoning water,
the multisensory awe of a thunderstorm that turns the afternoon sky dark.

Summer is about celebrating the small moments of magic. It pulls us from our routines into fun. It starts off with excitement and ends with a light sense of grief as it draws to a close.

Like many people, I define “summer” as the space between the moment school concludes and the night before the next academic year begins. There were a few years between being governed by my own academic calendar and my children’s. During that season of life, summer meant sleeveless tops, sunscreen, and the countdown to a vacation.

As I write this, summer 2026 is drawing to a close. Back-to-school shopping is scheduled for this Saturday, and the next academic year begins in less than two weeks.

Pause. Sigh.

It went too quickly.

This morning I reread a blog I wrote in 2023—a revisit of one I’d written two years earlier. Every August, before Angel and Giovanni head back to school, I find myself returning to it.

Read on, fellow travelers.

Summer 2021: New Beginnings

Dear Angel and Giovanni,

It’s the night before middle school begins. Your first-day clothes are next to your beds. Your pristine sneakers wait alongside your brand-new backpacks that hold supply bags filled with freshly sharpened pencils, erasers for your first do-overs, shiny new pairs of scissors, and brand-new boxes of crayons that smell like happiness and potential. You are growing up so quickly, and those new sneakers are going to take you on adventures that we cannot imagine tonight.

I sewed some invisible wishes into your shoes to accompany you on your journeys.

Wish #1. That you find friends who build you up and inspire you.

Your friends will define you in a way that nothing else in life will. They are true indicators of where you choose to invest your heart. Invest in the kids who treat you kindly, accept you as you are, and enjoy being around you. Maybe they won’t be the coolest, smartest, most athletic, or most popular kids on the playground. While they may not seem quite as alluring as your shinier colleagues, the nice kids often are the ones who will show up with a flashlight to escort you through the dark. Invest in flashlight-carrying friends. Be known for being a flashlight friend.

Wish #2. That you seek out new adventures and have patience with yourself as you scale the learning curve.

Flag football sounds fun? Give it a try. You’ll eventually figure out if you like it and, much less importantly, if you’re good at it. “I played flag football in sixth grade” is a lot better to say than “I have always wondered if I would have enjoyed playing flag football with my sixth-grade buddies.” This era of your life is about exploring and trying new things. Don’t waste it by narrowing your interests too early, expecting perfection, or allowing your worries to keep you from trying something new.

Wish #3. That you hold onto your moral compass and continue following it, even when it leads you away from the crowd.

Choose aloneness over doing something that feels wrong or mean. Temporary aloneness fades with time and connections with similarly minded others; however, dropping or ignoring your moral compass to fit in with the crowd can create memories that you will never forget and won’t feel good to revisit.

Wish #4. That you find grace for mistakes.

This human journey that we are all traveling will involve a lot of mistake-making. Some will be big, others small, and many will hurt your hearts. As often as possible, hold your mistakes (and other people’s) with compassionate, forgiving hands that allow space for life lessons, hurt feelings, new strategies, genuine apologies, and forward progress. Mistakes are intended to encourage healthy transformation. They become unhealthy and life-limiting when we remain trapped in our emotional pain and the stories that fuel them.

Wish #5. That you remember that I am always on your side.

I won’t always understand, but I will always support and love you. When your lives feel uncomfortable and confusing, you have a safe place to rest and recover with me.

Happy first day, my loves. What do I know for sure? You’ve got this, and I’m cheering you from the front row, with tears in my eyes and excitement in my heart. I’m so proud of you, and I’m so fortunate that I get to be your mom.

Summer 2023: New Beginnings

I wrote those words almost two years ago, the night before my sons began sixth grade. I sat in our living room, staring at their new sneakers and backpacks, as my own anxiety about their upcoming transition swirled around me. Had I prepared them adequately? Would they hold onto their kind, gentle hearts when confronted with adolescent insecurities, peer pressure, and self-esteem threats? Was I ready to be the mother of middle schoolers who were leaving the safety of their elementary school nest?

Two years later, I gently smile as I remember that evening. My response to all of those questions is a simple “Yes.”

So far, Angel and Giovanni (and I) have handled the middle school transition with grace, and they are skillfully ascertaining who they are and what matters to them. All of the anxiety that I felt that evening has long since evaporated, and I recognize that I needed to have more confidence in my parenting and in their ability to find their way through life’s challenges.

Life is comprised of moments when we sit in stillness, looking at our unworn sneakers, wondering if we are ready for a new stage to begin.

Sometimes our transitions will be easy and smooth. Other times, however, the changes will be more challenging, and we will find ourselves attempting to lace our new sneakers with clumsy fingers hindered by our big feelings about adapting to something new.

Last night I had a conversation with a client whose feet are still adjusting to her new sneakers. She is in the murky middle of a difficult life transition that is not proceeding as she had hoped it would, and her anxiety and helplessness often exacerbate each other. Each day, as she laces her not-yet-comfortable sneakers, a small part of her wonders if she made a mistake letting go of her previous shoes, even though they no longer supported her feet or fit her life goals.

If I were to sew an invisible wish into her new shoes, what would I choose?

“That you never settle for shoes you’ve outgrown.”

You deserve more, dear one. Stay the course. Your feet will adjust to the new sneakers, and you’ll be ready when the adventures beckon.

Summer 2026: New Beginnings

Twelve summer days remain before Angel and Giovanni begin their junior year of high school. Their new, adult-sized sneakers were purchased thanks to a recent shopping trip with their aunt. Those shoes now take up a lot more space and travel a lot farther than their just-starting-middle-school ones did.

They will deal with big, grown-up-sized issues while they wear those shoes.

Those shoes are no longer carrying little boys onto playgrounds and into elementary school classrooms. Most of their little-boy shoe problems could be solved by me and their teachers. Those shoes now belong to nearly grown men who are beginning to make decisions that will shape the people they become. The problems they will encounter in their new shoes will be bigger, more complex, and beyond clearly identifiable solutions. They will have important questions to ponder as they work toward strategies and paths forward.

What is the right thing to do?

What is the gap between the right thing to do and what I want to do?

I don’t feel confident right now…how am I going to keep moving forward?

What is a healthy relationship with technology?

This isn’t familiar…how should I proceed?

The world doesn’t feel safe right now…what, if anything, could I do about that?

What’s the best way to handle my anger, sadness, fear, shame, helplessness, regrets…?

And although I will be right here, always ready to listen and support, some of those big questions they will grapple with on their own in a way that they didn’t when their sneakers were smaller and I was consulted more quickly and frequently.

And some of those questions they may turn to their friends for guidance instead of me.

That’s the way it is supposed to be.

And that isn’t easy to hold.

What’s my plan for the uncertainty that is undoubtedly heading my way over the next twelve days?

I will get out my needle and thread and sew those wishes, along with the one I gave my client, into their grown-up-sized shoes that will be worn by their adolescent feet. Then I will trust that those new sneakers will keep them safe and take them where they are meant to travel.

That’s what parents do. We spend years sewing invisible wishes into our children’s shoes, hoping that those wishes—and everything we’ve tried to teach them—will guide them through unfamiliar territory.

After I have sewn my wishes into Angel and Giovanni’s shoes, it’s time to sew those same wishes into my own.

May I find friends who build me up and inspire me. And may I be a flashlight friend to them.

May I seek out new adventures and have patience with myself as I scale the learning curve.

May I hold onto my moral compass and continue following it, even when it leads me away from the crowd.

May I find grace for my mistakes.

May I remember to be on my own side.

May I never settle for shoes that I have outgrown.

Ubuntu, fellow travelers.

Jennifer

Continue the Journey

If today’s reflection resonated with you, you may also enjoy:

Rest. Reflect. Reimagine.

A guided practice for journey wishes & new beginnings

Rest.

Pause.

Take a slow, deep breath and gently release it.

Allow yourself to settle into this moment before moving on.

When you hear “new beginnings…”

Notice…

Your thoughts.
Your feelings.
Your body’s responses.

No fixing.

No judging.

Simply make space for whatever is present in this moment.

Let go of any pressure to find the perfect response or next step.

Reflect

When you’re ready, spend a few moments with the questions below.

What parts of this reflection on new beginnings resonated with you most?
When have transitions brought both excitement and uncertainty into your life?
Are there new beginnings unfolding in your life right now—or ones you are considering?
What thoughts and feelings arise as you consider journeys you’ve completed, the one you’re living now, and the new beginnings that may be ahead?
What invisible wishes would you sew into your own shoes as you step toward new beginnings?
Who are the flashlight friends you want beside you as you travel into unfamiliar territory?

Reimagine

Choose one wish to sew into your own shoes.

Not a complete life overhaul.

Not ten changes all at once.

Just one intentional hope.

One small act of courage.

One next step toward the life you hope to live.

Inhale courage.

Exhale fear and self-doubt.

Then lace up your shoes…

and begin.

Ubuntu, fellow traveler.

This reflection on journey wishes was first published on our Substack page and modified for this reflection.

“Journey Wishes” is based on “Sneaker Wishes,” a blog that was originally published in the Rawson Saunders School newsletter. The original blog is the intellectual property of the school. It was expanded and revised to reinvent itself as a Still River Reflection.

© 2026 Jennifer Ayres, PhD | Still River Counseling, PLLC
Written with care for fellow travelers navigating life’s changing currents.
🌐 StillRiverCounseling.com | 📍 Austin, TX

Gentle Reminder:
The reflections shared here are intended to offer insight and support. They are not a substitute for therapy or professional mental-health care, and reading this blog does not create a therapeutic or doctor–patient relationship.