I’ve been caught up recently in the concept that writing novels is what I am meant to do. This is all started when my qigong instructor posted a blog about when he realized that teaching qigong was his mission in life, and I responded by telling him I had found mine too.
Isn’t that cool? But have I? And why am I so sure?
One of the problems with writing speculative fiction is that you read a lot of it, and it is full of tales to refute any theory you might have. I could tell you that every time I have run into a stumbling block with my writing, something unexpected has gently appeared to help me through it. Coincidence? Well, I have also read the “The Sparrow“, a wonderful book about space travel and inter-species misunderstandings and the foolishness of turning to small signs around you to decide that you are on the right path.
I’ve also read plenty of novels that compel me ask exactly who it is that I think picks these paths anyway, and to make me question whether he, she or it is both benign and competent for the task. There are a lot of theories out there, any many don’t bode well for those of us who are charging ahead feeling sure of where we are going.
None-the-less, I get up happily each morning certain that I am leading the life I am supposed to lead. My health remains good, my outlook is great, I continue to be surrounded by love and I look forward to doing what I do. Coincidence? I think not.
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