Sometimes, the stories that shape us the most are the ones no one ever hears.
Most people know me today as a yoga teacher and studio owner, and many know about my years of teaching at the college level and the professional roles I’ve held along the way.
But there’s another part of my story — the quieter chapters that never make it onto a resume or LinkedIn profile. Before I was leading yoga classes or guiding others toward balance and strength, I was helping on our family farm — hauling grain, running equipment, and learning what it meant to work hard and keep going when things got tough.
Those early experiences taught me resilience, creativity, and the courage to try new things — lessons that followed me through every chapter since.
Today, I’m sharing a few of those stories — from muddy golf balls and lemonade stands to fireworks and farm fields — and how each one helped build the foundation for the dream I’m living now.
The Golf Ball Venture
My first taste of entrepreneurship came when I was just 10 or 11 years old, though I didn’t recognize it at the time.
After heavy rains, the creek behind our house would rise and rush, carrying hundreds of lost golf balls from the nearby course. My brothers and I would pull on our hip waders and head down with nets and bare hands, digging through the mud to rescue those golf balls.
Then came my favorite part: I’d wash, sort, and organize every single one, pack them into egg cartons or buckets, and load them into my little red wagon — alongside a jug of lemonade. Off I’d go to the end of our driveway, perfectly positioned near the Hole #5 tee box, ready to sell to passing golfers.
No business license. No rules or permits. Just a girl, a dream, and a wagon full of golf balls and lemonade.
These days, there’d probably be a dozen regulations against something like that, but back then, it was just pure hustle and heart.
The Fireworks Stand
Fast forward about ten years, and another opportunity came my way. My brother was moving out of state and looking for someone to take over the fireworks stand he’d been running.
At first, everyone assumed it would be another “guy” who stepped up. But why not me?
I asked him what it would take, learned the ropes, and dove in. For eight summers, I ran that fireworks stand for ten straight days in the sweltering heat — all while raising two small children, including a four-month-old baby during my first season.
What most people didn’t see:
• Every morning, I hauled boxes of fireworks from the truck and stocked the shelves.
• Every night, I packed it all back up again — because leaving them overnight wasn’t safe, and there was no insurance to cover vandalism.
• This routine repeated, day after day, fueled by sheer determination (and probably a lot of Diet Pepsi).
By the end of my first year, I had tripled my brother’s sales. He was impressed. I was exhausted. And I was proud.
Lessons Learned
These chapters — from hauling grain on the farm to hauling fireworks boxes to washing muddy golf balls — might seem simple on the surface.
But together, they built something much bigger:
• A relentless work ethic
• The courage to dream
• And the belief that if you can dream it, you can do it.
Years later, those same lessons guided me as I opened my yoga studio — creating a space where others could heal, grow, and step into their own dreams.
Most people know the chapter I’m in now. But it’s these untold stories — the farm fields, the fireworks stands, the lemonade stands — that explain how I got here.
Because the truth is, every big dream starts with a small step… and sometimes, a little red wagon.
Closing Reflection
Thank you for taking the time to read my story. ❤️
We all have chapters of our lives that don’t show up on resumes or social media — moments that quietly shaped who we are today.
Let this be a reminder that every big dream starts with a small step. Sometimes those steps are messy, sometimes they’re muddy, and sometimes they’re as simple as a little red wagon filled with golf balls and lemonade.
Maybe today is the day you take your next step.
If you can dream it...you can do it.
with gratitude
Bonnie
