Spoiler Alert: Let me tell you how this story ends. Well, not how, exactly; that will follow. It’s called the rope-a-dope. It’s called “SAY MY NAME!” Sometimes you have to play dead. Sometimes, that’s the only play. Sometimes you have to wander in the desert. But it is true that all who wander are not…
There was no way for me to know back then that whatever instinct made my mother suggest that maybe I should keep keeping that secret a secret would end up having value, but that is, indeed, what has happened.
Stick around. It’s just getting good.
“The act of writing is a mystical thing,” she continued. “More than the mere marks written upon a page; writing a thing down can actually bring that thing into being. It is already halfway there as soon as your pen touches the page! And understanding? Writing will rain down blessings of understanding and knowledge into your life! I tell you the truth, my little angel, the ballet of the pen is, at times, divine.”