Sunday Newscape Magazine

I can't tell you the stupefying mix of feelings I had when I held my firstborn book in my hands for the first time. Prior to that moment, life was all nervousness and excitement. But, opening its mysteriously stunning cover and fingering through page after page of my words - well, the overwhelming feeling was sadness. Strange, huh?

No, I'm not disappointed with the end result. The Sequoia Seed is beautiful inside and out. I guess, after close to two years of birthing this idea-turned-reality, I was just experiencing post partum. After all the frenzy was done – there was a bit of a let down. Like sitting in a room full of tangled ribbons and shredded wrapping paper on Christmas and wishing there was just one more present under the tree. The cliché that "getting there is half the fun" seems poignantly true.

It's my first. Hopefully followed by a second and third. But, no matter how many books I write from this day forth, The Sequoia Seed will always be my first. And that virgin journey will never be made again. That's what my editor attributes the sadness to. Not unusual for a new author, I hear. Holding the book in hand is secondary to the personal journey of discovery it took to give it form. The real creation happened within my cells, not within my book.

It's one of those all-too-rare moments when a monumental dream came true. And what it took to make that happen. Not just in the required doing. Although there was plenty of that. How to find and work with an editor. How to make stand-alone chapters blend together into a cohesive thread of truth. How to manage my time and my energy to meet a ridiculously tight (self-imposed) deadline. How to gain licensing rights to use music lyrics in a book. Yes, all that was a heavy learning curve and the lessons will survive this book and aid me in the next.

But, perhaps only those who have labored to bring a long-held dream to fruition can recognize what it took beyond that. The daily battle with fear and doubt. Why would anyone think what I have to say means anything? What if, in the end, I really don't have anything to say worth reading? Who am I to be sitting on a shelf with the likes of Deepak Chopra or Wayne Dyer? For nearly two years, a day didn't pass that wasn't strewn with the debris of my persistent doubts. Some days it reached a glorious state of panic. Especially when I wrote check after check, not knowing if I'd see any of it return.

You've encouraged others for years to follow their dreams. To set aside their fears and jump from the cliff. To believe in themselves and know that God doesn't give them a dream if they aren't ready and equipped to give it life. To finally, once and for all, know that their existence is not an accident and that their life is a miracle - you are a miracle. Easy to say, but it takes courage and daring to turn words into actions.

You'd think after spending two years coming to this point, I'd be able to fluidly answer the question that every single person poses to me, "What's it about?" Not so. And not good when you consider that my occupation just switched from writer to marketer. So, my editor gave me an exercise to move me from my confused head into my knowing heart. Answer the question: "What deep hole got filled up because you had the courage to spend energy on yourself and navigate through all the fears that came up to finish something just for Karen?"   After peeling away all the hype and strained lingo, these are the words that surfaced.

“I am not good enough,” the mind cried in anguish.
       Spirit gently whispered, "You are a miracle."
"What am I to do?"
       "Love the world with your gift."

In all the anguish we experience searching for the reason for our existence, seeking purpose and worth in majestic work, we forget that we are the miracle; we are the gift. What we do simply lets us share. Your gift is you and everyone needs it. Loving yourself enough to hold that gift forth for others is the only reason you're here. You and your gift are love. That's all that is ever given or received. Love - or the cry for love.

Take your dream in hand and softly stroke its beating heart. It was never meant to be yours alone. It is yours only if you give it away. It rightfully belongs to the world. It is your job to hold it forth and give it wings. It is in that moment that your seeking will be done.

In Joy Karen

"Death is not the biggest fear we have; our biggest fear is taking the risk to be alive -- the risk to be alive and express what we really are." - Don Miguel Ruiz

"In the world to come, I shall not be asked, "Why were you not Moses?" I shall be asked, 'Why were you not Zusya?'" Rabbi Zusya

"Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart..." - William Wordsworth

(c) Karen Wright all rights reserved - http://wrightminded.com