This morning, as I was walking Leia and Figgis, Leia brushed up against a dandelion covered in seeds. With a poof, the seeds scattered, tumbling into the air, and floated away. Wishes just went everywhere.

My students are a week from summer vacation. They are working on their final assessments, propaganda messages inspired by A Midsummer Night’s Dream. For them, their dandelion wishes are: pass the exam, forget about Shakespeare, and maybe empty their minds of ninth grade.

Dandelions entrance me. They frustrate me. Even now, in my 50’s, I still yearn to pluck a ripe dandelion, slowly rotate it as I blow, and watch all of the seeds constellate as my wish becomes reality. Yes, I know that wishes aren’t real. And, yes, I really don’t actually wish on a dandelion just as I don’t wish on the first star of the evening or on shooting stars and certainly not on single blow birthday candles.

But the idea of a wish is enticing. The idea that I can want something and maybe, just maybe it will come true. That I can bring about world peace. Or end world hunger. Or maybe just throw a few extra dollars into my checking account.

But, no. Dandelion wishes are never forth coming because, in the end, there’s always that one stupid seed clinging to the seed-head, usually on the underside of the dandelion, right by the back-curled petaled leaves and the stem.

Every single time. One seed. No wish. Not that I actually believe. But it’s fun to dream…

I’m sitting in a room of 23 dandelion wishes right now. Students who are just as exhausted as I am after yet another long year. Students who wish they could be home right now, or at the beach, or tucked in their beds with the comforters up over their heads. And I have my own wishes for them. I wish they would find peace. Contentment. Happiness. And not asking me 100 questions at the same time that are completely unrelated to A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

I have my own dandelion summer wishes too. Finish Polishing the Bones. Read until my eyes fall out of my head. Learn about photography. And digital marketing. And newspaper layout and design. I want to hike a hundred miles. And write more AI material to help pay for my daughter’s college. I want to explore culinary landscapes and spend more time cooking.

I wish and I want and I hope.

I fought the title to this blog because it didn’t make sense. But it felt right. Because I never achieve my dandelion wishes but I still insist on blowing on the seeds. But by breathing, I don’t try. I just accept and do what is right for me in that moment. In that granular sand second, I am just being and not hoping because that hope is already existentially within me and I can just be content with the wish that will never be but always lives.

This makes sense to me. Somewhere. And even then, I am just going to breathe. On a dandelion bursting with seeds. Or into a steaming coffee mug as I try to cool the surface that will still be blistering hot but taste so good. Or at the top of a mountain as my heart’s pounding settles. On in a classroom filled with students who dream their wishes into reality.