Charbonneau, Bradley. Repossible. #bk. 1

Read by Bradley Charbonneau

Before 2012, I had come to the conclusion that the life I had dreamt of living just wouldn't happen. I was sad about it but I thought, "I guess that's just the way it is." Well, sad is a tiny little word. Let me start off this book real. I was depressed, without hope or energy, full of regret, anger, and yes, sadness. I had imagined my life as being something that I was so far from I couldn't see it happening anytime soon and probably not ever. I was doing work I hated in a city I no longer loved and I was empty of desire and full of despair. You know those moments in the movies, usually accompanied by dramatic music, when lightning strikes or the guy hangs on to the cliff by his pinky toe and then miraculously saves himself (and probably the rest of the planet) and goes on to cure cancer and star in the remake of The Shawshank Redemption? Yeah, well, it didn't happen like that for me. For me, it was walking down Larkin Street in San Francisco on the way to a dumpy Burmese place when I "came out of the closet" to one of my closest friends and said I wanted to be a writer. But that I wasn't. I had given up. The stars aren't aligned. The universe must not really have my back. It's a conspiracy! I didn't yet know about the big verbs. I didn't know how to Ask, I didn't Dare Decide to Create. I wouldn't have known how to Meditate if it Sparked me in the face. The only thing I Surrendered to was my sad fate. Play was for those kids on the swings and the closest I got to Elevate was in the elevator. Then I changed my habit. Just one. I say "I" did it but I had help. John Muldoon coerced me into writing Every Single Day. Not the book, but the concept of daily writing. The verbs came. The ideas blossomed. Repossible grew from a seed of nothing into a tree of something. I can barely remember that guy on Larkin Street, crying my tears of woe. But he got me here so I thank him. But between that guy and the person I am today is what you have in your hands. What you have in your hands is Repossible. Possible Impossible Repossible Oh, by the way. This is me reaching out my hand to you. Here we go. I'm rooting for you

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