I stopped writing for a bit. A while. Years.
So many things got in the way. Being an architect. Love. Marriage. Coaching. Leading. Writing other things. Brazilian jiu jitsu. Tournaments. Purple belt. Brasilia. Mexico. Canada. San Francisco. Head coach. Possibility. Money. My Xbox. Turning 40. My book. Facebook. In short, exploring being the little minx that I am. Pioneering the nether reaches of that.
Somehow, living my expanded life had me doing something else besides writing here. Which is okay. I was being who I needed to be. But the book changed all that.
The first impetus for my writing was so simple. Call the world, tell it about me and what I see. Now, over a deacde later, the world (or, the people I know) calls me, asking "who are you, and what is it you see?". When that first happened I could not be with it. I thought that was not me. But the people I know have summarily disagreed with what I think about myself so I gave up resisting them.
So I write now. Constantly. On the mat. During a meeting. While gardening. It isn't because of my experiences. It isn't a memoir of my deeds or insights. Rather, it is like a call from the future. The gravitational pull for discovering what we are capable of.
I won't write about the call or what we are capable of. If you really stop and think about it, you already know everything about those.
The pull, however, is another matter. We have a lot to examine, here.