The empty, derelict, unfinished sanctuary stands bang in the middle of a desolate village. Its potential peers through the weed and grass flourishing in its gaping cracks. My heart sinks and my body laughs at the ephemeral boldness that got me started with such a grandiose project.
What was I thinking, resolving to step into my fear of writing, and starting this blog?
Who did I think I was? Who was I fooling?
Looking around me, I’m surrounded by even grander mansions, built with the imaginations and energies of men and women bestowed a new year, another chance to dream. Dreaming on. Before reality and their stubborn past selves gripped them at the ankles, snapped them back into “reality”, grounded them on humble earth and cut the lives of their (new year’s) resolutions short – erased their visions of progress, better selves, fuller lives.
But thank God, I get…
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