I dare to write a book, and I dare to dream big. I dream of writing a book that will inform, inspire, teach, and simply tell a story of one life that was influenced by a long tradition, and share stories of many more lives who chose to follow this same tradition.
I am writing a book.
The other night I cried about not being able to add anything else on the 45-page manuscript I've written the past three weeks. I cried and cried because there were many thoughts, many ideas playing in my mind, teasing my brain to add more to the story I am writing, yet these ideas I cannot capture and put into writing, and came out only through tears.
Writing is a mystery.
Writing is a search to the inner core of your being, a journey to one's self to defining the source of your strength, the reservoir of ideas, the fountain of creativity.
I am on that journey.
I am on a journey to writing a book about my journey and the journey of many others.
In trying to write about my journey, I find myself journeying into a different realm - into the realm of writing. The mysterious, magical, and surprising journey of writing.
I do not know what lies ahead, but I know that in this writing journey, I am learning and I am enjoying.
For the love of writing, I will continue this journey.
Because of love, I will be able to continue.
