There’s a section
On the library shelf
I call the weird and wonderful
And there I’d like to see a book
Of Wisdom by
It took some years, but I wrote the book. I thought it would change the world.
Then I thought it was one of those little things; inconsequential. So what was the point? Why all the time, trouble and expense for something in which I’d lost confidence and no-one else knew existed?
That’s been the question at the back of my mind for months; the one I don’t want to face or admit is there.
I was walking along the road this morning thinking about that pesky mosquito again and the point of the book suddenly fell into place. It might not have changed anyone else’s life, but it certainly changed mine; it changed me. I am a different person for having written it. It gave me a focus to get through a traumatic time and made me clarify my thinking on several points.
Someone once told me that you can’t see the reason for the path you tread until you look back in retrospect. Once again, I’ve discovered they were right. The really ironic point is that I wrote a lot on that subject in the book!
Have you had any new insights on life lately?
Perhaps there’s a penny just waiting to drop if you give it a little nudge?