After finishing The Tao of Pooh and The Te of Piglet, I told myself that I would re-read The Tao of Pooh again and again, until I had memorized it. Because doing so would surely change my life, as simply reading the book has - or at least had, because of course, I started to forget. But I didn’t. It was a simple task, one that was guaranteed to bring me eternal joy and insight, but I didn’t do it. Why?

Fear. Fear of what? Fear of change. Even if the change was for the better. We humans tend to paralyze ourselves because of our fear of change. Every day since having read the book (which was months ago now) I’ve had a nagging voice at the back of my head telling me to re-read the book. Or at least go through it. Anything so that I don’t forget. So that I can remember to keep on trying, and living, and loving, ad nauseum. 

Yes, I’ve read The Secret. And I managed to re-read it several times in succession without hesitation. But mainly because I had been working with those concepts for several years prior, via my religion… Taoism of course, is different. Benjamin Hoff’s (the author) books are actually required reading in various Taoism and philosophy courses, in universities, and are also part of the prerequisite texts for initiation into the Faerie Tradition (100% true, I kid you not). 

So, seeing as all my textbooks are downstairs, and I am upstairs; and seeing as I have no intention of going downstairs because the baby is very happy up here and I don’t intend to leave him alone (not even for 2 seconds, because he’s bizarrely dangerous that way); and lastly, seeing as I’ve already gone through every other book up here today (yes, believe it or not), I have no choice but to face my fear and re-read the book that changed my life. 

Yay!