What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. — Ralph Waldo Emerson
Having just finished writing a book, one of the most dreaded questions is already waiting round the next corner: “Who is your audience?”
“My audience?” I ask back, exasperated… I scramble together an answer, which ends up sounding like an excuse.
“My audience are seekers. They are not satisfied with the way things are in their lives, but they don’t blame anyone for it. They take responsibility for their own dissatisfaction. Maybe they are desperate, living lives of quiet desperation… no wait, first and foremost they are seekers for their own truth. This means they don’t yet know who they are. So how am I supposed to know?”
And yet, during my creative process, I know exactly who I am writing for.
This is for the brave ones,
who have the courage to walk their path and meet their inner monsters, who are not afraid to go it alone, who enjoy connecting with others on a similar journey.
It is for the free spirits,
who have not been corrupted by education, religious materialism, or spiritual bypassing, who can think for themselves, who haven’t lost their curiosity and are ready to discover that another life is possible.
It is for the resilient ones,
who have been through the pain and trauma of human experience, who have not been broken; they have come out stronger but not harder.
This is for the precious few,
who believe, despite everything, that humanity has the potential to evolve into a kind, cooperative, loving, peaceful and humane species, and they want to help make this happen.
I am writing for the precious ones,
who know their value — even if they can’t fully live it yet — who learn to trust their own experience, and who recognise their power to make their world a better place.