DUCKTALES

There’s a lovely park in the center of downtown Bellevue—a 21-acre oasis tucked into the heart of the city. It features a stepped canal, a cascading waterfall, and a peaceful reflecting pond. There’s always something happening: family picnics, volleyball games on the great lawn, and a charming unofficial dog park that springs to life around 5 p.m. each day.

I love this park year-round, but in the spring, something special happens—ducks appear in pairs, waddling through the grass and gliding across the water. They bring a sweet, lighthearted energy to the whole place. It always feels like love is in the air.

The other day, I was strolling through the park when I noticed a pair of ducks frantically paddling toward each other—only to be repeatedly separated by a small, remote-controlled speedboat. A young boy stood at the edge of the pond, beaming as he steered the boat with delight, clearly enjoying his control over the scene.

But to the ducks? It looked like chaos.

They paddled harder, circling again and again, never quite reaching each other. The little boat kept cutting them off. I imagined how confusing and frightening it must have been for them—how desperate they must have felt.

And still, they stayed stuck in the pattern.

What they didn’t realize was that if they had just stopped reacting and looked up—looked forward—they could have easily swum to the other side of the pond and found one another in peace.

I watched for a moment, tempted to walk over and intervene. But then I saw it for what it was: a perfect metaphor.

How often do we do this in our own lives?

How often do we let someone else’s noise—or our own fear—keep us spinning in frustration, anxiety, or self-doubt? How many times have we paddled in circles trying to please others, or silence our inner critic, while our deeper desires go unmet?

I’ve been those ducks. Many times. Controlled not by a toy boat, but by someone else’s expectations—or worse, my own harsh self-judgment.

When we don’t pause, when we don’t look up and notice that there might be another way, we keep repeating patterns that wear us out. We stay in survival mode.

But here's what I know:
You don’t have to stay in the swirl.

You get to choose something different. You get to move toward peace, toward connection, toward what you truly want. That kind of courage doesn’t come from someone else. It comes from within.

And the moment you DECIDE to shift—that moment everything starts to change.

Love and Light,

Michele Heffron

If something in your life feels like that pond, and you’re spinning in

circles trying to make sense of it all… let’s talk.

✨ Schedule a free discovery call and let’s get to the heart of who you are—

and what you’re meant for.