by Hannah Roveto

A friend sent me a YouTube video yesterday, you know the kind, that has been mass emailed by people all over the world for months and months. In it was footage of tiny Connie Talbot, who came close to winning Britain's Got Talent last year (Simon Cowell's U.K. TV talent competition). Maybe you've seen it, maybe not. I often delete these things, but then again, I check chain emails claiming to serve some altruistic purpose against urbanlegends.com.

I was moved to tears by Connie. I admit to being in a particularly schmaltzy mood these days, but my thoughts afterward reflected more, I hope, than a bad case of over-sentimentality. Three ideas that have made me smile for the past 24 hours:

One: When someone has real talent, it will be noticed. Some creative people ignore the bubbling sound from within, even for years, as the path it leads to might be (a) impractical, (b) insufficient for bill-paying purposes and/or (c) put one in a position to be critiqued and criticized publicly. If you are known around the gray cubicles or in volunteer subcommittees as "the writer," then everyone is telling you something you need to hear and do something about.

Two: If it comes from a pure place, there is power. You can want something with your whole heart, but you have to want it for the right reasons. To be famous is not a reason. To make money is not a reason. To do it because you love to do it, because you do it in your sleep, because you are miserable when you can't do it, now there's a reason. There is a pure place deep inside you, and if you cultivate it -- the trick to it all -- you will succeed.

Three: Sometimes it is better to be older. A postscript on Connie's story, for anyone feeling equally schmaltzy who links to her performance, is that Cowell's record company came back to the Talbots and told them they believe in the future of this little girl, but that she is too young to launch a real career in the music industry. Kudos to them for having the backbone not to turn a six-year-old into immediate paychecks. There were other companies less ethical, but I hope the Talbots heard the full message and understand that bright lights and applause are frosting on a grindingly hard and brutal industry. Sometimes maturity -- of the artist, not those around her or him -- is truly essential equipment in tackling a dream.

Bottom line: If you want to fly over the rainbow, ask yourself, do you have the wings for it? If yes, then do you have the strength for it, or the willingness to build up that strength? And if yes again, well, get out there and fly. Start low but head high. You don't ever be the one to be stuck on the ground at the end of the day wondering why, then, oh why, didn't I.