I’ve been working on a book for 18 years about hopping from one island in life to the next. It’s called “The Bridge,” but to this day I can’t tell you how it goes. I follow my inspiration to a place I haven’t experienced yet, then I stop. I can’t fake it, I can’t “pretend” to know the answers, because every time I do that I just have to go back and correct the book later. So I have learned to wait. I ask the universe what comes next. Every now and then I get a little answer, and that keeps me excited. I add a few pages.
I’m up to page 54 now.
Anyway, I was talking to my friend Giorgio the other day about these islands, about how every time we come to the edge of one we’ve been stuck on, we have a decision to make. We can’t go backwards, because we already know what awaits us there. Whatever the island is, whether it’s Money, or Power, or Sex… we’ve gotten to the end of it, we’ve been on it waaaay too long and we’ve gotten sick of it. We admit defeat: “Happiness” just wasn’t to be found there. But we can’t go forward, either, because we don’t have the courage to jump yet. We’re sick, but not “sick enough” of the island. We don’t know where we’ll end up, what kind of island the next one will be.
Se we just sit on the edge of our island. We sit and wait. We sit and we smoulder.
And in the smouldering, we start to think, “OK, I admit it. I don’t know where I’m going anymore. I’m willing to give up this island, this TV channel in my head, this idea about “X” being the most important thing in my life. I’m willing to be wrong, I’m willing to leave everything here and move on. I’m ready to change. Please help me, somebody. Please help.”
And we sit, and we wait, and we smoulder. Until all the wood is burned, the smoke has cleared and the ashes have blown away. And then one fine, spring day, a friend arrives, a portal opens, and we are suddenly “free” to jump to the next island.
Up a chakra… to the next Level of The Game.
Joy Biscuits 