When a Book Finds Its Reader

When a Book Finds Its Reader

“I finished your beautiful book last night, and I wanted to say how deeply it moved me. It’s so inspiring, and the reflections you shared at the end were incredibly encouraging.

For anyone standing on the edge, waiting for that first leap, your book is a definite must read.

Reading your words felt like a gentle hug, reassurance that I’m not alone.

There’s such freedom in the way you describe change and courage, that it’s okay not to land perfectly. As long as you jump.

Your book is one of the most motivating l’ve ever read.

It made me feel like I was among good friends.”

Andrea Hayden

“I finished your beautiful book last night, and I wanted to say how deeply it moved me. It’s so inspiring, and the reflections you shared at the end were incredibly encouraging.

For anyone standing on the edge, waiting for that first leap, your book is a definite must read.

Reading your words felt like a gentle hug, reassurance that I’m not alone.

There’s such freedom in the way you describe change and courage, that it’s okay not to land perfectly. As long as you jump.

Your book is one of the most motivating l’ve ever read.

It made me feel like I was among good friends.”

Andrea Hayden

There are moments in life that remind you exactly why you said yes to something that scared you.

Yesterday was one of those moments.

I received a message from a reader named Andrea about my book, “Flashpoint Transformation: Life’s Choices.” Her words stopped me in my tracks:

“Reading your words felt like a gentle hug, reassurance that I’m not alone.”

I sat with that for a while.

You see, I delayed writing this book for years. Decades, actually. I made excuse after excuse, convinced myself it wasn’t good enough, that I didn’t have the right credentials, that nobody would care about the musings of an 81 year woman who refuses to act her age.

But Andrea’s message reminded me of something crucial: we don’t share our stories because they’re perfect. We share them because they’re true.

The Freedom in Imperfection

Andrea wrote something else that particularly moved me. She said there’s freedom in the way I describe change and courage – that it’s okay not to land perfectly, as long as you jump.

That phrase – “as long as you jump” – has stayed with me.

How many of us are standing at the edge of something wonderful, waiting for the perfect moment? Waiting until we’re ready, until we know exactly how it will turn out, until we can guarantee we’ll land gracefully?

I spent years doing exactly that. And then life happened – traumatic events, losses, upheavals – and I realised something: we’re never truly ready. The landing is never guaranteed. But the jumping? That’s where the magic lives.

You’re Not Alone

Perhaps the most powerful part of Andrea’s message was this simple truth: my words helped her feel less alone.

If you’re reading this now and you’re standing at your own edge – contemplating a career change, a creative project, a bold reinvention, or simply trying to navigate the challenging transitions life throws at us – please know this:

You’re not alone.

Your uncertainty is normal. Your fear is valid. Your desire for something more, something different, something truer to who you really are? That’s not selfish or foolish. That’s human.

Why I Finally Jumped

At 81, I finally wrote the book I’d been avoiding for years. Not because I suddenly had all the answers, but because I realised my story might matter to someone else who was struggling with the same questions.

Was it perfect? Absolutely not. Did it take courage to put myself out there? More than I’d like to admit.

But messages like Andrea’s remind me: it was worth it.

So here’s my question for you: what have you been putting off? What dream has been quietly flickering in the background, waiting for you to notice it again?

You don’t need to have it all figured out. You don’t need to land perfectly.

You just need to jump.

And perhaps, like Andrea said, knowing that someone else has stood at the edge too is exactly the gentle hug you need.

With love and white rays

Christine 🧡