3 min read

The Light That Shines Through

The Light That Shines Through
Photo by Keagan Henman / Unsplash

A few days ago, I wrote a post about how some influential people shared my book.

I was wrong.

That’s not a good reason to write a book.

There is only one reason to write a book.

There is only one reason to create anything:

To let your light shine through.

. . .

You hear the whisper each day.

It's the internal nudge, the spiritual tug.

Create.

Do the thing.

Be the person I made you to be.

But you don’t. 

Because it's impractical.

There are other things to do that are more important and urgent.

There are other ways that are safer, less disruptive.

But...

What's more urgent than creating what you know you must create?

What's more important than your soul’s growth?

. . .

The only way to get what you need while you're here – the spiritual lessons you seek in this lifetime – is to listen to that whisper, telling you to PLAY BIGGER.

Because you are on stage.

You are the main character, and the director, editor, and screenwriter.

Everyone else is in their own movie, too. 

They’re all playing those roles, just like you.

And sometimes, you're their supporting cast.

Other times, you're just an extra. A random side character.

But you're not meant to stay in those quiet roles.

You have your own movie to live.

. . .

It’s been 20 years since I made my first video.

I’ve made more than a thousand videos since then.

But… how many of those videos were mine?

Not very many.

The best videos I most wanted to make? 

Never made them.

They’re still inside.

Because they’re scary to make. Some are very difficult. 

Up until recently, I thought it was my choice as to whether I made them or not.

But it's not my choice.

The whisper persists. 

. . .

What about my books? Why did I write them?

I had to write them.

And I listened to the whisper.

I wrote and shared stories I was afraid to tell. 

I made some people upset. That was scary.

I almost got sued. Also scary.

But not as scary as never saying my truth.

I can't imagine who I'd be if I hadn't done that at all.

. . .

I don’t blame people who are unwilling to create.

I don’t blame people who consume everyone else’s art and never create their own. 

I get it.

And I know how easy it is to tell someone “You should write a book.”

Sure, the process has never been simpler, faster, or cheaper.

But that's not what gets in the way.

It's fear.

The act of creation requires you to shine your light.

And that brings up fear.

That's why creating is a divine act.

Because, in those moments, you reveal you are a child of God.

Which is exactly when fear tells you to stop.

And fear will keep dimming your light, if you let it.

Some say "Just come up with logic as to why the fear doesn't make sense!"

That has never worked for me. Ever.

The only way I've found to diminish fear's power is to have it play alongside me.

. . .

The whisper quietly insists that you SHINE.

Even if the light upsets others, or makes you look strange.

Shine.

And if you don’t? If you decide to stop listening?

It will insist you pay attention.

You'll stub your toe, or hit your head.

One day, you might get a serious injury.

Or a sickness.

Right now, it's gently telling you to shine.

It doesn't want to have to yell WAKE UP.

. . .

You don't need to know the end of your movie.

You just need to make your next move.

The one where you shine just a little brighter.

Because the world grows dim when you hide your light.

And you are made of star stuff.

Shine.