Sometimes I wonder about the future. I know my writing is good. It’s such a part of me, it’s like my soul on display for the entire world to contemplate. Will the world ever regard me as something bigger than it does now? Will I know when the moment comes to shine my light a little brighter? Am I ready for the next step in my process?
I’m 45 but, sometimes I feel like a newborn baby. Other times, I feel as old as a tree. I don’t think I’ll ever finish learning that I am less than I think I am, and more than I think I am.
What’s that word that means existing simultaneously? Ah, yes..Ubiquity
I exist, and yet, I do not yet exist.
There is a book I am waiting to write. It’s called: “The Ubiquitous Tome”
For now it lives in my spine, this story.