Writing a book | Day 178 of my 2023 Journal

I have been wanting to write a book for a while now. Outlining several different styles, thinking about format and style, and leaving it as it did not seem right. I do not want to write just the story, like a travel book, and I do especially not want to write a book to just spill my wisdom, as that is a position I do not feel I hold, and even more, it is a position I do not WANT to spend hundreds of hours in, working on the project.

Sometimes life throws something at you. At the right time, and the right place, in the right context, and with the right vibe. Three weeks ago, I sat on a bench in Copenhagen, talking with my friend since forever (literally) about everything. He had just returned from India, Bali, Thailand, and I was in town just a few more days. Right there in the sunshine with our coffee, the idea arrived. Like a ray of light. Why not write one together? About what life is, how it works, and how to find the balance and engage both practically and spiritually without being absorbed in systems, banality, extremism, or downright psychosis.

Yesterday we had our first meeting about the project, and the energy was still high. We are close friends, the soulmate kind, the kind where we do not talk very often but witness each other's lives and have each other's backs. We think alike but from very different perspectives, so even though we agree on everything, we have separate discourses. This means writing the book will become a learning journey for both of us, as we will need to make the other understand, explain ourselves and learn from the way the same theme is vocalized by the other. It is perfect.

We are both Danish and travelers, and both left for more or less the same reasons. Our meeting yesterday had the option of being live as I am back in Copenhagen (it was my last day), and the context became a clear example of how life unfolds, and we need to listen.

He arrived after a crazy journey on the train through town, and I walked through the very Danish neighborhood. We both arrived at the only cafe in the area, only to conclude it could not hold our thoughts. We had to leave and walk around a small lake in the wind, sitting down at a picnic table to outline a beginning of the process - as the narrowness of the Danish culture we come from felt like a prison.

The trees at least leaped int to he higher heavens, and the wind dissolved all of the energies we could not handle.

It was perfect and chaotic (same thing), the ship was in the water, and the process had begun.

Love and light

Cecilie Conrad

Thank you for reading
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