This was the week when I prayed to God, Let’s get this dream over with so I can move on to the next. I think, subconsciously, I am living Jo March’s life — not that I wished for it. I’m surrounded with kids (on Sundays), I’m writing for my living (everyday), and I’m chasing after this book dream at the absence of Mr. Bhaer. Wait. I haven’t gotten to that part yet.

But I’m at that part where an imaginary Beth keeps whispering, I should so like to see it printed soon. That terrible, creeping feeling of urgency that says, there’s no time to wait. And so, I am in a rush. Never mind the greater opportunity (if I’d be given one). Never mind the bigger fame. I just want to have it out there, just as what I intend it to be, and be satisfied with it.

It goes by the name of HERE COMES YAGO.

The name change made a big difference. It made everything fun. For an entire year, I held on to Saltfolk because it had so much impact: one word, unique and intriguing. And then I realized it does not embody that entire thing I’m writing. So I made the switch and half-a-day later, immediately submitted my manuscript to a local publisher. Just like that. In a snap. I’m crossing my fingers that they received it — sure, the pop-up screen said ‘We’ll let you know in 90 days’ but I didn’t receive an email receipt.

The biggest wish in my heart of hearts? A positive response.

It was a week full of acting-on-dreams, a week of stepping forward, a week of quietly hoping things will turn out fine. The fire alarms were all read. It fully dawned into me that I don’t have much time dilly-dallying. And so, I rolled my invisible sleeps, got to work, finished things, and somehow finished well.

One thing I’m proud of: accomplishing a new look for Courageous & Meek, whose website has now its welcome newsletter. I have, as of the moment, decided to keep this blog as a journal for the more vulnerable moments, whereas this space is specifically made for my professional pursuits.

By the way, this year, I might be launching a local goods shop.

To be honest, I am excited. My hands are full while I am wading through a heavy current of work and responsibilities. But, I tell you, never in my life have I been so thrilled of not knowing what will happen. Right now, after a long time of blindingly stepping through many different paths, God is holding me steady. Gently. Securely. That, above all, is all I need in this life.

I have tiny wishes and God knows all of them. There’s a whole list. Some are yet to be ticked. But where I am is different from where I was ten years ago. And ten years before that, I’m pretty sure I was in a deep, dark pit. I’m walking under the brightness of God’s light, carrying a hopeful, assured sort of radiance, and finally, I could say I am living the life I wanted. This. Me. Right now.

I hope you’re living the life you wanted too. x