I hate walking on ice.
Within walking distance from our home is a narrow strip of forest—preserved boreal forest within the city boundaries. In winter this gorgeous piece of bush turns into a leafless affair with compacted iced-over walking paths. (A place I can’t get enough of in summer, but avoid like the plaque in winter.)
Rules are there for a reason!
True—for the most part. Rules are there to keep citizens safe, keep a society civilized, and preserve law and order. No question about that.
Image – pixabay.com by Lockie
Julia Hawkins took up running when she was a hundred years old.
Julia Hawkins – USA – Track & Field
Writing has the power to heal us.
Writing has the ability to save lives; as does purposeful reading and reflection. Oh, but I don’t need healing, you say. My life’s perfectly fine. I’ve worked hard, established myself, I’m contented; I have everything I need.
And then, in an instant, life changes. The unexpected happens, and life as we know it will never be the same.
Image – pexels.com
Scratching beyond the surface, digging deeper, is necessary from time to time. Doing some healthy introspection and sharing it makes us vulnerable. Then again, it can be a powerful experience if we are willing to accept the challenge.
pexels.com – IMG – Stefan Stefanic
And here’s a peek into the third chapter:
Maxime considers sharing the news
The last rule on the first page stated: Listen to your heart.
Over the years Maxime had learned to do that. It had saved him from certain annihilation on several occasions. Now would be one such occasion. He would not go back to the office, or even home, for that matter. He had to regroup. Rethink his life—his options—his future.
If I was to tell you today you should stop dreaming, you should stop making grandiose plans and construct diagrams of future projects, would you pay attention? If I was to tell you, stop bluffing yourself, you don’t have what it takes. You’re an imposter. You’re a fake. Stop trying so hard.
And here’s a taste from the second chapter:
The doctor makes a diagnosis
The Vision reappeared.
Maxime rose as if hypnotized and followed the young lady down the endless hallway toward a small room at the back. Shafts of morning light burst in through a side window, enveloping them in gold and accentuating the female form that floated ahead of him—the black leggings hugged her perfect bottom, firm thighs, and toned legs. Dear Lord, this hallway had better come to an end.
Being worried is what Maxime does best.
At sixty-four-and-a-half, Maxime Bastien Baumann wants to retire more than anything else, but he can’t. He’s too worried.
He’s not a hypochondriac; he’s just anally retentive. And obsessive compulsive. And constantly afraid of being late. His life is structured and lived by a set of rules: two full pages if he writes them down, double-spaced.
For Maxime, being late is never a bloody option.
We often talk too much (and too quickly.)
We live jam-packed lives; time is of the essence and we often speak before thinking it through. Whether we speak to someone in person or communicate (“talk”) via electronic and digital media and devices, we text (email, tweet, SMS, post on Facebook, Instagram, or Pinterest) too easily and too much. We get caught up in our ‘busyness.’ We’re always in a hurry. We talk fast. (We even eat fast.) We zoom in and close the deal as soon as possible.
Image – Viktor Hanacek – picjumbo.com