LifeRevelation

Life is a Revelation…be encouraged

Archive for the category “ambition”

Sort of Like Responsibility…Part V

http://www.steliasorthodoxchurch.org/

There are few things in life that split people as quickly as talking about religion. Everyone has an idea, a thought, and/or a conviction. And rare is the individual who will listen to views, other than their own, without certain walls going up. So what I am going to ask may border on the impossible…or at least in the very difficult zone. Yes this post is going to be about what I think about God. But is only my thoughts. I am not writing to sway anyone’s opinion. I’m writing this post with the same intention I have written the prior four posts on responsibility (there is only one more), to share what has happened in my life and to prove to others who have issues, situations, or circumstances in their life that there is hope. Real honest to God, life changing hope.

So, as I usually do, let me start with a story…

The year is 1998 and I have already made significant changes to my life. Although those changes started only four years earlier, I am a completely different person. Not that there weren’t matters that needed attention (and still do). But I was no longer spending every night in a bar, chasing every skirt who happened by, or indulging my considerable desire to steal everything that wasn’t locked down and stowed away. The drug use was history and I had quit drinking. Both were considered minor miracles by those who knew me, because I had been doing a gram of cocaine a day (no worry about pesky nasal hair) and drinking a case of beer and a bottle of cognac (nice mix, huh?) a day.

No coincidence, Susie and I had been married for four years as well. Her presence in  my life had opened the eyes that were blind, the ears that were shut, and the heart that was to hard to care. It was like being born again…literally. I was experiencing emotions I didn’t know existed. I would watch the McDonald’s commercial where the little ducklings followed their mother in the rain, and tears would roll down my cheeks. I could talk to people about Susie and choke up ( actually this one still happens). I suddenly found myself loving small children, something that had NEVER happened before.

Susie had introduced me to church, which I thought was about as strange as anything I had ever witnessed, and I had witnessed MANY strange things. I liked it, but it just felt weird. I had never attended church in my life and I was extremely uncomfortable. It was like a secret society. The people were nice enough, but they had there own way of talking. A language I was completely unsure of. It was English all right, but in the world I came from being “washed in the blood,” meant you were probably dead of a gun shot wound or had been bludgeoned to death. Even the individual words were used in a different context. “God” was no longer connected to damn it and “Jesus Christ” now referred to a person/deity as opposed to being an expression of surprise. I also noticed no one used the F word, this was extremely strange, and VERY difficult to get use to. Occasionally I would slip and I was aware this was not a good thing. Susie promised to help me.

In 1998 I met this man……I’m not quite sure why he is holding that sign, but just ignore it. His name is Fr. Stevan Bauman and he is without a doubt the greatest person I have ever met in my life, which is something he would definitely not acknowledge. Knowing him has changed my life from our very first encounter over lunch at a downtown Indianapolis restaurant. I came home and told Susie things were going to change. This was a fairly large statement considering the evidence I have just presented. Over the years Fr. Stevan and I have grown quite close. When I was baptized into the Eastern Orthodox Church he became my godfather. His presence has been like having my own flesh and blood incarnation of God, another statement he wouldn’t be able to disown fast enough.  He is kind and gentle, compassionate and loving, holy and pure, patient and humble. I don’t believe he knows what anger or frustration are.

So what is this post all about?…certainly not just a window into a side of me that I rarely talk about. Well yes and no…I do want you to know about this side of me, I think it will help you understand me and my writing better, but no I’m not trying to convert you or anything remotely like it. I’m not trying to convince you of the presence of God…or of the Truth of Creation.

So what is it?…it’s about being honest, being open, being vulnerable, being authentic, and being real. It is about telling the Truth. My journey through this life has been exciting and painful, thrilling and suicidal, adventurous and paranoid. At one time my living expenses were $33,000 a month and my income far exceeded my expenses. Other times I stood in front of a Coke machine and cried because I didn’t have enough money…and this was when they were only cost 35 cents. I have run across America and stood in front of thousands telling about it and I’ve slept in a dark alley next to a dumpster because I had nowhere else to go. I have known personal pain so severe I didn’t know if I could draw my next breath and happiness so complete I didn’t have words to express it.

I have been delivered…I have been set free…I am alive…and anyone and everyone can do it…no matter where you are at, or what you have done, or what has been done to you…so please…be encouraged!

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Sort of Like Responsibility…

I’ve got a question…well actually several questions.

Are we in any way responsible for how people interpret what we write?

Do we bear any accountability for the thoughts we post here in wordpress?

For instance, if we advocate violence against a particular group of people, because we have found it to be an effective tool of terror, then someone, after reading our post, attacks and seriously injures an individual, should we shoulder any blame?

Let me pose another situation.

What if we honestly believe that everyone should have sex with whoever they want, as long as all the parties involved in the actual act are of consenting age and agree and we write a post advocating my position. An individual reads our post and decides they ought to engage in a tryst with someone they have been having a flirtatious relationship with. But lets add one more detail. One of the parties is married with a couple of children and a loving spouse. The loving spouse finds out and is completely devastated by the broken trust.

Should we assume any liability?

Lets go a little deeper.

We write several posts detailing our high-flying, decadent, no holes barred, hedonistic life style full of drug and alcohol use, frequent and varied sex partners, a reckless disregard for the norms of society and law, and overall just a I don’t give a damn about anyone or anything attitude. We pick up several “followers,” who over time, actually start imitating our life style. Because of our posts they read, our videos they watch, and our tweets they receive, they begin to act out in their own lives the way we live. They embrace it with gusto…except they start to experience what we never mention…they hurt those who love them, others lose faith in them, and their lives begin a downward spiral.

Now how about this.

We write a blog that displays a hard edge. We are sharp, irreverent, and sometimes vicious, except only in words. We know how to run right up to the edge, but we never go over. We push the envelope of what is acceptable and maybe we lean over it, but we are cautious not to go too far. We are exploring new terrain and we begin to go viral. Thousands begin to read our posts. Jimmy Kimmel quotes us. Hip comedians weave our comments into their acts. Before long we are enjoying the type of success reserved only for a very few. But as time goes by new, more edgy blogs appear. What we once considered outlandish is now considered lame. Our bite is now more like a toothless grin. we are old school and we are not old enough for old school to be cool. Our fans trickle at first, then run away. The next new thing is so far out there that we can’t believe it. They don’t write they spew.

Are we in any way responsible for laying the ground-work for what came next?

Let me ask one more question?

Can we write whatever we want, yet wash our hands (and souls) of any responsibility for how our readers will interpret what we write?

You, no doubt, have noted how I’ve asked several questions without providing any answers. I have my opinions and I will write about them in my next post, but for now, I would like to hear what you think. You have also noticed how the scenarios I constructed are one-dimensional. In real life there would be many more nuances. Life rarely comes without dangling, messy strings. But I know you get the idea.

Let me know what you believe.

Be encouraged!

All the Same

While you, dear reader, may not be able to tell, I usually spend considerable time thinking, researching, and sharing my ideas with Susie, before I sit down to write. I’ve found, for the most part, this keeps me from running off on some half-wit tangent. Susie says this also makes it easier for her to converse with her friends, because she doesn’t have to spend hours defending my posts.

I think she means it as a compliment.

This post is somewhat different, because while I have given it a lot of thought, I haven’t done much research and I’ve kept my comments to Susie to a minimum. So I hope this post doesn’t cause much distress the next time her friends and her get together. This one comes more from the gut.

Let me start with a story.

Several years ago I was asked by a friend’s wife if I would be interested in mentoring at risk and behaviorally challenged children in the public school system. Although they were wanting to reach children of all ages, I would be working specifically with elementary students. After she answered several questions for me I thought the idea had merit and agreed to become a mentor to twins of a single mother. The twins had a slew of issues and while I am no trained child psychologist my biggest contribution would be as an in-room monitor who would work with each of them to keep them focused during the school day.

I enjoyed the work and kept meticulous notes as to what worked and what didn’t during various situations. I shared these notes with others who were involved in the program. The program became a company and the company started to grow. New mentors where hired. Programming directors, financial analysts, therapists, and others were added to the payroll. Strict rules were put into place. The roll with what is happening and go with the flow was eliminated. Structure and order became the only way. Owners and management began to dream about earning substantial money. They began to curry political and corporate favor. The ideas others and I had become part of a program that was touted as having an incredible success rate. Metrics were put in place. We were all coached on how to write our reports so Medicare would pay. Students graduated from the program reportedly cured of their issues.

Except there was only one problem.

The kids weren’t healed. They were better. They were making progress. They could function for longer periods of time without having a physical outburst, but they were a long way from being what anyone would call healed. It wasn’t that they were bad kids. Or even that they were mentally deficient. They simply had been born into horrible situations. Their only guidance in life had been through the TV they were set in front of from birth, because the changing patterns on the screen kept them from crying or they imitated what they saw when they left the living room for the streets. They yelled, screamed, cussed, and fought just like they saw the gangs do, except they were in the third grade.

But it didn’t matter. In order to keep the money flowing in they were diagnosed with a DSM Code by a staff child psychologist, then pronounced healed when they got near the end of time that federal funding would pay for their care.  One size fit all, except we weren’t talking about clothing, we were talking about children with feelings, emotions, and in need of real, true, honest love.

I bent and broke all the rules. I went home with the kids I worked with and talked to their parents, when I could find them, and whoever else I could find when the parents weren’t anywhere around. I prayed with my kids. I took them places like museums, libraries, art galleries, backstage at theaters, and anywhere else I could think of, to expose them to a bigger world. I paid for everything out of my own pocket.

Then I got caught. I was warned. I didn’t change I kept on doing everything. I got caught again. I was told to change. I said no. They said my services were no longer warranted. They sent two large men to escort me out of the school. They told the principal I was under investigation for wrong doing.

When we find something that works, people want to turn it into a program. They want to monetize it. They want to streamline it. They want one size to fit all. They want to make it all the same.

Well I don’t want to. My experiences with the children is only one example. In my life, and in yours, there are hundreds of examples. This is one of the reasons why I love the blog world. Each blog is different. The content is our own. We aren’t constrained in what we say and how we say it. I’m not given to using lots of provocative or foul language, but I’ll always defend your right to, even if I am hoping you won’t.

Like I said at the beginning of this post, it isn’t well researched, nor have the words been carefully chosen, they just rolled out of my heart, and hopefully into yours.

Be encouraged!

A Few Words About Risk

https://www.twu.edu/rm/

Recently I had been thinking about risk. It isn’t a subject we hear much about anymore, unless your money is in hedge funds or your future is inexplicably tied to Greek futures. If either is the case, then you are living with risk every nanosecond of the day, but for the rest of us it is a subject that rarely comes up.

In fact, we have reduced risk in our lives to the point where it is nearly negligible. Our vehicles have lights, buzzers, safety belts, GPS units, and in the new Cadillacs an option that allows the driver’s seat to vibrate if you get too near an object. Smoke alarms, radon gas detectors, and alarm systems that can alert our cell phones if any unauthorized person tries to enter further reduce our risk to exposure. OSHA and others have been diligent in assuring the American worker they can perform their assignments without the fear of bodily injury.

Socially we’ve done what we can to reduce risk in a myriad of ways. There are books, DVDs, and seminars to help us eliminate the risk of bad relationships. Dating services have intricate questionnaires to assure the success (and thus reducing risk) of those seeking a life companion.

In sports rules have been tightened, scrutinized, and re-evaluated to reduce risk to the participants, and in some sports even to the spectators.

Up and down the continuum we have striven to eliminate every aspect of risk. Which for the most part is not a bad thing. As the driver of a 3,000 pound piece of steel down the highway, with my Grandson in his safety seat with a seat belt across him, I’m all for reducing his risk. Same way with my home, which is made out of logs, so I’m all for smoke alarms. As a cyclist I love that I can reduce my risk of a serious head injury by wearing a helmet that is specifically designed to withstand blunt force trauma and thus help me keep what few functioning brain cells I still have.

Now all of these efforts are good and I’m not suggesting for a moment that we take away any of the safety devices and laws that we have in place to protect us. But I wonder if there is not some unintended fallout. Something that in our focused concentration we did not think about. Could it be that we have curtailed a part of us that needs risk? Something within us that needs to push the envelope of what is possible.  The part of us that wants needs to live on the edge. I know when I ran across the United states I felt something deep within me. If I were a better writer I would be able to describe it. It was an excitement, like a live wire with a enough electricity running through it to juice you silly. I awoke with it in the morning and fell asleep with it in the evening.

Now that I am constructing a new company I feel it again. The act of taking an idea that was birthed while we sat on the hoods of our cars in a parking lot and talked about what would be the perfect company and then creating and developing the concept into reality brings out the feeling again. The feeling of risk. Of working without a net. If it works, it works big. If it fails, it fails big.

Perhaps it is time we let a little risk creep back into our lives. I’m not advocating a wild run amok, pitfalls be damned type of behavior. We don’t need any more hurt and pain, of any type, in the world. But maybe we do need a little risk, a little abandonment, a little willingness to loosen the reins, a little less scripted life.

Just be careful.

Be encouraged!

New Post

http://www.envirotechinstruments.com/news.html

It has been quite a while since I have published a post of my own content.  There have been roughly two reasons for this. The first being that my energies have gone into the two projects that I hold dear to my heart a) writing my book and (b) the creation of LifeRevelation as a company.  The second reason was I kept finding great, life-changing content from other blogs that I wanted to reblog. I felt they had a great message and I wanted to do my part in spreading the good news.

Now I have something I want to talk about.

But first let me entertain you with a story.

The morning was overcast. In fact, for several previous hours it had been pouring down rain.  Now it looked like the front may move on, or maybe it would start raining again. I was a poor predictor of weather. Whatever I thought it was going to do, it usually did the opposite, but today I really wanted the sun to shine.

It was April 1, 1996 and this was an important day. It was the beginning of my run across America. I had planned, trained, and fretted about this day for the past eighteen months. There were thousands of little tiny details which needed to fall perfectly in place, and they had. Looking back it was a miracle I had gotten to this point. Everything had to point to this moment. Any number of things could have gone wrong, but they didn’t. People I never expected and people I didn’t know had stepped up and volunteered their time, money, and energies to make this happen.

My ego had dreamed about the hundreds who would come to see me begin. The business men and women who would delay their morning agendas to come down to the beach. The local runners who would write notes to schools so their children could witness this event. Local news outlets would jockey for the best position to catch the boardwalk, the sand, the ocean, and me in the early morning light.

Then there was reality and reality was proving my ego to be a damn liar.

On the beach that fateful morning was my wife Susie and I, and two other people and a dog. A husband and wife out teaching their black Lab to fetch. He was picking up the rudiments of fetching pretty quickly.

My Timex Ironman watch digitally moved closer to the 8:00 start time. I tried to control my wavering emotions; “God I am beginning a run across America!” “This is nuts there are only two people and a dog here.” “I am about to start an adventure of a lifetime.” “There are only two people and a dog here?”

Susie walked over to the lady to tell her what we were doing and to ask if she would photograph us. The lady agreed without any comment on our big adventure.

My watch said 8:00, it was time. Susie and I took off our shoes and strolled into the Pacific Ocean up to our ankles. Immediately we noticed the jellyfish completely surrounding us. “Just great” I thought to myself, “five seconds into the run and I get attacked by jellyfish. No amount of training prepared me for this.”

But the jellyfish kept their distant and Susie and I did the quickest hug, smile, and jump out of the water combination on record. Fortunately the lady manning the camera seemed to have great reflexes because she got a picture of us before we landed on the sand.

A few moments later my running shoes were laced and I was running down Pacific Grove’s Ocean View Boulevard.

That is when it hit me:

YOU IDIOT THIS IS CRAZY!!!

Never before in my life have I ever wanted to quit something so badly. Every ounce of my being wanted to stop right then and there. Maybe Susie could claim the wounded woman and get her old job back as CFO of a trucking company. I could claim an injury…or temporary insanity…or just come clean and say, “Sorry you all. This is just more than I can do.”

All the time I was possessed by these thoughts I kept running. I didn’t do it because I knew I could run through these doubts. It just never occurred to me I could quit while I was thinking about how to quit, and save my marriage.

I knew Susie would kill me if I quit. On training runs when I would be nearly dying after running 50+ miles in 90 degree heat with 93% humidity, Susie would pull up in our car and ask, “Can’t you do another mile or two? I mean come on, you can make at least that little bit, can’t you? Being married to Susie was not for the faint of heart.

I began to notice something as I ran. I felt good. In fact, I felt like I was floating along. There was no effort to swinging my arms forward. My head rested evenly releasing any tension in my shoulders. My legs felt like they were floating and my feet thought they were wrapped in pillows.

But something else was also going on. This was on a much deeper level. A sense of peace was bubbling to the surface. The panic began to dissipate. I felt free. The clouds where rolling away and so was my ego and worry. The sun came out and I began to ease into the running I knew I could do for miles on end.

When you look at what is going on in your life, how does it feel? Are there situations and circumstances that just scare the bejesus out of you? Are sometimes you just down right afraid? Is fear as real to you as tonight’s TV schedule?

May I suggest a quality that my eighth grade home room teacher called, “Stick-to-it-tiveness.” I call it perseverance. It is not a wonder drug that will cure every heart, soul, mental, and physical ailment known to mankind. But what it will do in certain situations is help you get through some pretty rough patches in your life.

If one thing worked for everybody we wouldn’t have any problems in the world. One size doesn’t fit all. But occasionally what has worked for one person will help out another.

Be encouraged!

Honor and Courage

http://philosophy.sean.tripod.com/id17.htm

“You will never do anything in this world without courage. It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honor”

-Aristotle-

I was wondering how much different our world would be if we were to live our lives according to a few simple ideas. None of them would require advanced degrees or an internship, although there is nothing wrong with either. We wouldn’t have to get financing or alter our work schedules. It wouldn’t cut into our private time, nor alter our choices of hobbies.

But it would require some honor and courage.

Be encouraged!

Can/Will

Once again I found a quote on Evan’s blog http://thebettermanprojects.wordpress.com/2012/08/22/day-262-a-moment-to-consider/. There is no need for me to add any additional thoughts. This speaks fine all by itself.

Be encouraged!

Be encouraged!

Think and Do

Anais Nin Quote - Live Out Confusions Print - Standard Size

Katie at http://kaiteoreilly.wordpress.com/2012/08/22/anais-nin-on-life/ had this on her blog today. Sometimes something will grab me outright and I marvel at how crystal clear and penetrating the idea or thought or concept or whatever is. It immediately strikes home in my heart. It almost like I can physically feel it.

Then there are other times. This is when I will read something and it penetrates the outer layer of my consciousness. Then it will lie there. Like an invitation to think about. I read, then re-read the words. I will pause after each word and think about each one’s possible meaning. Then I will revisit them as a whole thought.

This quote falls into the latter category. I invite you to spend some time thinking about all the possible aspects. Let it penetrate into you.

Be encouraged!

*Let me add something to this post which I just found about. The poster is from Lisa Congdon. She has several  which represent the writing of Anais Nin. They can be purchased at http://www.20×200.com/artist/150-lisa-congdon and http://www.etsy.com/shop/lisacongdon. She is a phenomenal artist, so if you are looking for an unique gift or maybe as a reward for yourself please take a moment to visit her sites. 

Thank you.

Be encouraged!

Forced_width_300_lisacongdon_displayimage_1

Lisa Congdon is a San Francisco-based illustrator and fine artist. Raised in both upstate New York and Northern California, she grew to love the trees and animals that surrounded her. That love is now expressed through her colorful paintings and drawings. Her clients include Chronicle Books, Running Press, Harper Collins Publishing, Target, Pottery Barn Teen, Urban Outfitters, Land of Nod and Random House Publishing. Lisa regularly exhibits her work at galleries across the U.S. She is the author of A Collection a Day, which was spawned from a 2010 creative endeavor. Lisa and her work have been featured in Martha Stewart Living, the New York TimesDwell, the San Francisco Chronicle and 7×7magazine.

Lisa lives in the Mission District of San Francisco with her partner, Clay Lauren Walsh, her 10 pound chihuahua, Wilfredo, and her two cats, Barry and Margaret. She works at her studio, which is several blocks from her home. She’s an avid cyclist, swimmer and vegan.

Visit Lisa’s art and illustration website atwww.lisacongdon.com.

For You

http://www.desicomments.com/flowers/good-afternoon-flowers-for-you/

This post is going to ramble somewhat, but hopefully you will extend me a little grace as I get to my point for writing today.

Maybe it is because I spent the afternoon with a couple of old friends who race bicycles and we just had a great time talking as they laid down some very respectable times on a 12 mile time trial. We reminisced about the old days and how we were getting along as age begins to affect our riding abilities.

I guess it could be that I just finished reading the autobiography of a rock icon who I have followed for over 42 years, Gregg Allman.  I remember the effect of the Allman Brothers’ Live at the Fillmore album had on me some 38 years ago. As a youngster, all of 17 years of age, I was simply blown away. Now I listen to him with tears in my eyes. Our lives have paralleled one another in many remarkable ways, but the thing that got me the most was when he has spoken about how he felt regarding his music. The power of believing rock n’ roll could save your soul. I felt that for a long time and it was a very rude awakening when I discovered possibly the complete opposite was true.

Or it might be that today is Sunday. And Sunday’s have always produced a certain melancholy mood in me. Even long before I became a Christian, when I was about as far away as one could get from any type of moral, ethical lifestyle I would feel a difference on Sunday. If I were on a multi-day bender of cocaine, alcohol, and debauchery, when Sunday rolled around I always pulled back from the edge. Many times I would take off by myself and just go someplace where I could be alone. I remember several times I parked across the street from a church as it was letting out. I watched as they came out, talking, laughing, the kids running, and the couples walking arm in arm. Some carried a black book that I was fairly sure was the Bible. I sat there in my new black-on-black Porsche  928 and wondered why people would get up early and come to this building. I thought about what they did in there. I was completely unchurched and didn’t have a clue as to how it worked. But still I wondered what it would be like to go.

Of course, it could also simply be that I am not as young as used to be. The truth is I have probably lived more days than I’m going to live. That thought never ceases to amaze me. I’m not sure why, but it always does.

I’m writing all of this because I am warming up to something that I want to say: to quote Janis’ I want to share a little piece of my heart with you.

I started this blog back in February and I didn’t have any idea what to expect. I knew there where ideas I wanted to write about. Ideas about honesty, and truth, and respect, and boundaries, and morality, and love, and compassion, and a zillion other things, but I didn’t know how they/me would be a accepted. And it was me. My thoughts and ideas and the words I write, well they are me. They are how I live my life. They can’t be separated from me. They are me.

I want you to know how deeply you have touched the very depths of my soul by your open acceptance. Every comment you have written and every time you selected the Like tab has brought a smile to my face and a grateful feeling to my heart. There have been a couple of thousand comments and I have no idea how many likes from all over the world, but each and every one has been like a soft breeze blowing straight across my heart. That breeze brought refreshment, encouragement, and enlightenment to a parched soul.

There are far too many of you to thank individually and I’m afraid if I were to call out a few it would perhaps diminish what the rest would take away from this post. So I’m resisting the urge to do that, because I want everyone of you who have used the valuable (and limited) time in your life to read, like, and/or comment to know you have lifted my Spirit.

So from the very bottom of my overflowing heart…I humbly thank you.

I bow before you.

Be encouraged!

Moving On Up!

funny-stairs-accomplishments-stick-man

As many of you know, I am writing a book about the lessons I learned while running 3160 miles across the United States. The tentative title is Running Across America & Down Other Roads. I would like to announce that I am the little guy at the top of the diagram above who is doing the Happy Dance. Actually I am not represented on the diagram. I am somewhere in between “I Will Do It” and “Yes, I Did It!” I think my position could best be described as “I Am Doing It.”

“I Am Doing It,” isn’t all that bad of a place to be. I have overcome the “I Won’t Do It” phase. It only took about sixteen years for me to finally be victorious. My basic reason for struggling so long at the base of the stairs was because I had this love/hate relationship with what I had accomplished. No doubt, running across this incredible country of ours is the greatest physical feat I have accomplished. However, for years when people discovered what I had done, I was met with one of two responses: 1) That is awesome, tell me about it. or 2) Hmmm, I wonder if dinner is ready.

Either folks wanted to know every detail starting with why and finishing with how or they didn’t want to hear another word about it. I loved explaining to people all the ins and outs of the run, but response number 2 left me bewildered, feeling awkward, and, in the interest of complete honesty, a little hurt. Overall it left me not wanting to talk about it, because I never knew what the reaction was going to be.

My wrestling with fear of success/failure kept me from moving for years. As I realized (I am a very slow learner) that people’s response should not be the governing factor on how I live my life, my writing began.

Once I got started the rest of the steps went by easily. I figured out how to organize my research, thoughts, ideas, various journals, notes, photos, and recollections. Susie-who is the world’s greatest organizer-pitched in and got me going on the right track. Publishers got interested and now I’m writing, editing, and immensely enjoying the process.

But I want to ask you, Where are you at on the steps? What are the reasons for where you are? What will it take to move up a step? What holds you back? Why not move today?

Let me know.

Be encouraged!

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