Snowflakes and Flowers

      Picture this.       You are standing at the edge of a snow glazed mountain . Feet  are covered in three layers of wool socks.  Still . The cold bites at your ankles. Looking down, you gaze out into the white blanket that overlaps the land.  No trees. No movement .  Just you and the nimble flurry of cold winds. Snowflakes tickle at your frost bitten nose, as they come flowing down... Before renouncing your will power. You take a few more agonizing steps towards the edge. Each breath right now is short and willowy. Soon , you will be in a state of severe hypoxia. Squinting with both of your frozen eyelids, there is a flash of light in the distance.      Finally.   You feel a warmth grow inside.  One step. Two steps. Three steps... You make your way downwards. Hours go by...body is only a few moments away from collapse. Down on the floor of the blizzard, the light beams you in the eye again. Just a few more steps.. . You meet your hand on top of that magical glow  .

A Path to Action.

      Lets start out  5 years ago, when I was freshly 16 years old. Innocent to the mind warping of modern day. I had perfected the art of "A Path to Action"  When an Idea popped inside my skull. I listened to it.  The "Idea" was as soft as clay, waiting to be molded. Without direction or a clear vision, the path was to write a book.  How this thought had popped into my brain is a whole other mystery. Why had I all of a sudden been so wrapped up into creating this book the reader may ask? Well...that is a question in which I never implored. With the flick of a newly chiseled switch, I started writing.  Of course, that is how my brain worked.  You have an Idea .  You take Action That is how it should be. No thoughts of "failure" or the real "why"  to my goal.  Just staying focused on the task with pure unbridled  "Action." This kind of  mentality is something I have begun to lose in the past five years growing up. I get an Idea . I th