Your opinion matters less than the story...

 Today I was running. 

It is Sunday, my long run. 

The run that builds endurance. 

It builds stamina and everything I need to complete my marathon. 

I am not a fan of these runs, they are never less than an hour and a half at this stage, and any demons you have to wrestle show up right on time for a chat. 


This week while hitting that hour mark, I thought back to the book I wrote when I was 24 and became extremely disheartened. It covered my first-ever adventures across South Africa on my bicycle. 

My stories from the first trip were heavy, riddled with opinions, telling the reader what I was thinking and almost attempting to influence them how to think about me and my adventure. 

I cringe reading a lot of it. 

My second trip is funny, it is light, but streaks of depth and sadness sprinkle the pages occasionally. It was written more as a blog and thrown together. 

I like it more. 

 The second trip was with a friend. We rode for ten days and shared the best memories. I wonder how it could read so differently. 

It dawned on me this morning. 

I tried to tell the reader what happened daily instead of telling them what I was thinking. 

I was having so much fun, I didn't have time to over ponder everything.

Instead of lessons, I gave them events. 

Instead of an insight into my mind, I allowed them to draw their own conclusions. 

I gave the reader enough to imagine, they were on the bicycle with us. 

The reader could imagine, create and think whatever they wanted to. 

The best lessons are the "ah ha" moments we realise for ourselves, not the commandments of what life is and should be. 

Create it for yourself.