In the past two months, I've spent no less than 70 hours on the road. It's been painful at times. It's not so much the speaking with people, meeting new faces, and being in different places that kill the energies of my soul; it's the traveling, the driving.

I sometimes wonder if I'm really busy because there's in fact much to be done, or if I'm just trying to appear busy because there's a hidden insecurity within me so I need to look like I have a real job. I hope it's not the latter.

Just a moment ago, a friend of mine commented about our mutual busyness: "...people listen, learn - you collapse, but it's fine because you've uplifted someone".

Thank you, Alwyn, for uplifting me.