My first book?

For Dutch version click here: Mijn eerste boek?


A few years ago I began writing. So now and then I wrote a little piece of 6 lines max. Just because it came up out of nowhere and that I liked the text. Sometimes because of another piece of text that I had read. But all those written pieces disappeared into the archive and never showed up again. I have thrown away many of them in that period. Now, while I am writing this, I remember that when I was young and in love, I wrote little poems for my loved one. Never knew why I did that. It just was part of my life. However, sharing of these writings was not what I wanted."Who is waiting for this, who am I to share my writings, and in fact it is all nonsense" were my beliefs that came up again and again, while I started living more and more from my head than the by heart. And that was OK for that time. However, I am glad and it is wonderful to live more and more from the heart nowadays. And that is exactly why I began writing again. For a long time I have asked myself why to start again. The old beliefs were still there. But something else became stronger than those beliefs. I decided to give that something new a chance. "Just write because I feel to write. No matter what I write, just let it happen". I had no idea where those words came from but I began to like it. Also to read my writings back after a while was fun. But sharing of what I wrote...no...a firm believe was right on top of that. The urge to write however became stronger and stronger. Scary! And at that time the fantasy stories came forth out of my deeper being, more and more often. As a child I already had this lively imagination. And now all these parts of fairy tales passed by. On one of these days one of my daughters came around and unexpectedly asked about those old bedtime stories I used to tell them when they were young. During the holidays I always told them stories about the elves and a little Gnome. They were real funny and most of the time these were stories about something they themselves had experienced during the day. But why did she asked me that question just now? I decided to do some internal inquiry about this. After a short time I began to write down the first lines of something I made up, and yes indeed it was again about this little Gnome. In an amazing short time I had a fantastic story on paper. I was surprised. Secretly I wrote three other stories. I became enthusiastic and saw myself back in these stories. I laughed ....a good sign. And then my wife asked what I was doing, all that typing.

I explained it to her and you can imagine that she wanted to read those stories. With some fear in my heart about her reaction I let her read them. She was excited about them. Also she was convinced that this should be made known to the public as a book for children, perhaps only our future grandchildren. I was relieved by her reaction and last two years fifteen stories appeared. Not only for children, not only for storytelling before bedtime, also for ourselves as grown ups. The stories are loaded with recognizable things that keep us busy during the days. However...a book? Publish it? Well that idea had still to grow a bit further. While that idea was growing I received several invites to join groups for self expression and growth. Before I knew it I had myself thrown into these groups. For quite some time I am active on Facebook in sharing ideas and views, but these groups invited me to freely share my thoughts and to write about myself...whaaaaa. I was surprised when I noticed that all the writing was accepted easily. Sometimes several persons reacted upon them, sometimes only one and in other cases no one gave a reaction. It became very clear to me that I could not be hurt by their reactions as long as I wrote about myself, as long I was honest, authentic and open. No matter the reaction, it was all right. Sure, I did like the positive reactions and feed back, and it stimulated me to continue to share. I began to enjoy this. I even started my own blog!! In the end the idea to make a book of these fifteen stories seemed not even so bad. It felt ok but not right now, something was not finished yet. And in last couple of months 6 more stories were added. Now it feels as completed. It is time to make them public. And at the same time ideas popped up about drawings and paintings for the stories, editing will be done, layout is being discussed and all by really warmhearted friends with the right skills. The last phase of my book to be has begun.

But let's be honest, is it all about this book, to get known or famous, to be seen and heard of? No.
Last years this became clear to me. If I have something to tell, I just do it. It is not important if there is someone around to read it. It is about what happens to me when I write it down, when I tell it. By writing it down or telling the story it becomes more clear to me what is going on. What is inside of me becomes more visible, new perspectives are showing up. It is an ongoing journey and writing shows me my path. It is my development. And at the same time the silent thoughts and wishes are being colored with a sound in the form of spoken words or writings. Nothing can make that undone except when I recall it. With that I set the changes in my life in motion, every time. Old business out of my system and new are allowed. Reprogramming as I call it.

And I sure like to share, just for the sharing. Why stay sitting in my own with my stories, my visions, ideas, my learnings of life? It feels good to share them so why wait? And my experience is that there is always someone who says " Well that is a revelation" or "That is funny". And you know, when there is only one person who benefits from this, how little it is, maybe only a smile, it was worth writing or telling it. And even when it is not read at all, it is still worthwhile for myself. First of all because it is fun not only to write but also to read my pieces back after some time and secondly because I do learn a lot about myself, about how I stand in life (or stood in life), and to learn to see the possibilities for changes. And furthermore it gives rest. Everything what takes place around me, everything what is stored in my head, the heart and the body, my experiences, pictures and conversations will bring me into action and if there is no action I become restless. It has to come out, one way or another, also physically. Grounding it is called sometimes. Writing is a form of grounding these things, things that are keeping me busy. In this way something is done with it. The energy is now getting a form. It gives me the spirit to work with it, to continue, to get inspiration, and to have a flow of life full of fantasy and love.
I really love it.

And so nice that in a few weeks there is this little booklet, that is written within this energy, for others to enjoy, nothing to expect and yet so special. A booklet where dear friends contributed and still are contributing to make it happen. A booklet where my daughters were the ones who laid the foundation for.