For over a year now, I have been telling myself (and others) that I’m writing another book. (I say “another” because I once wrote a novel that never got published despite repeated efforts and a few close calls.) I’ve been telling myself that, but I haven’t really been writing it.

My heart has been all over the place with what this book should be. Should it be a memoir? A spiritual guidebook? A leadership book? A creativity book? A collection of personal essays? And if it’s a memoir, should it just focus on one part of my life, or a more general “story of my journey” kind of book?

There’ve been lots of rough outlines drawn, a few false starts, lots of inspirational moments… and yet, somehow nothing really stuck. Try as I might, I just couldn’t find the illusive thread that would tie the pieces of my book together.

When I quit my job in the Fall, one of the things I knew I had to do was write a book. It’s just been a deep longing for so long that I know I have to do it, whether or not it ever hits anyone’s bookshelf but my own.

Over the holidays, I wrote a guest post for Magpie Girl (Rachelle Mee-Chapman) about “the place where worldcare and soulcare meet”. As I explored a very personal story of a time in my life when worldcare and soulcare collided and taught me a valuable lesson, a little voice told me “This is it. This is the thread for the book. Now start weaving.”

And so that is what I’ll do – start weaving. And one day I will share with you whatever tapestry emerges.

Now go on over there and read the post, and then cheer me on as I try to give birth to this new baby.

And then one day, when I’m on the bestseller list (ha!), you’ll be able to say “I was there at the beginning!”

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