The Bald Eagle

The Bald Eagle

Tuesday, April 30, 2013


The woman sat on the bank beside her Guide as they floated upon the water; the waves drove them peacefully forward.

"You know, I would have never made it this far without you," she told him.

"I know. That's why I'm here," the Guide replied in a humble manner that caused the woman to stop looking at the ocean and look up at him, inquisitively.

"I truly believe you want me to make it," she whispered softly.

"Have you just recognized that 

Your joy,
Your interests, 
Your desires 
Your cares, 
Your worries, 
Your hurts, 
Your pain, 
Your thoughts 

Have always been foremost in my heart?  There has never been a day that I have not wanted you to make it,

To be all you can be, 
To reach that unreachable star, 
To conquer all those poisonous pits within you that try to hold you back."

"I see," said the woman.

"Do you see really? Tell me, what do you see?" The Guide asked.

"I see a young girl starting out with only a tiny funk of awareness. She wasn't sure what it was but deep within her that small wave of awareness took root and began to grow. Somehow or another that one small funk had the strength needed to make the fearful girl brave enough to step out and discover what that awareness meant. Bravery pushed her to confront herself, which enabled her to hear her calling."

"You think so?" The Guide asked.

"Yes, I think so," replied the woman.

"What do you think would have happened if she hadn't heard the calling."

The woman let out a hearty shout of laughter before saying, "She wouldn't be sitting here on a small bank in the middle of the ocean, daring the storms to try and stop her, listening to echoes and using new found  courage to hold on as she grooves, grooves grooves with the beat of the waves, seeking solace when lonely as she takes to higher plains, and making the incredible possible as she jumps from one wave to the other." 

"Oh, my dear friend, looks as if the young girl has changed," said the Guide. Where would the young girl be then?

"I don't know, but I can honestly say she wouldn't be turning knobs, looking at the other side of love, or  looking over yonder where she can't see a thing, or letting a Guide that disappears every now and then predominate her life, or going after a quest that she doesn't know whether or not she will achieve, or regenerating on a block of sand in the middle of the ocean......"

"With a Palm tree," interrupted the Guide. "Don't forget you had a Palm tree."

"No, I won't  forget the Palm tree. It was beautiful and green."

"Do you think the young girl who started out is happy?" Asked the Guide.

"As she sat forth to sever and sail, she was sad. Something changed in the young girl, and she was no longer the girl, but the woman who has learned to be tactful, who has grasped that mankind is unique and that she is a part of the Vine, who is the giver of life that causes her to walk on water as she practices the gifts she has been given and learn such things as playing the xylophone with you."

"Are you saying that the young girl turned woman is happy?

"Yes, that's what I'm saying. Over the years,  the woman has learned to treasure the life that has been given to  her while she's on her path."

"What do you think the young girl would be doing if she had chosen to remain where she was?"

"She'd probably be drifting along somewhere, content to a certain extent but never really fully satisfied.  Am I right?" She asked.

"Can't tell you that." The Guide replied.

"There you go again with your can't tell me that. What can you tell me?" The woman asked, hurt, because of his refusal to confirm her answer. His lack of agreement gave her the feeling that maybe she should have buried those desires and become like the others.

"Do you think you would understand if I told you what you wanted to know?"

"I don't know," she replied.

"Would you have continued, would you have discovered

The strength, 
The tenacity, 
The faith, 
The patience, 
The endurance 

Within you if I had told you what you wanted to know."

"No, I probably wouldn't have," the woman answered,  and she looked out at the ocean floor.

"The time will come when answers to your unanswered questions will come," the Guide said.

"When will that time come?

The Guide lifted his hand and touched her eyes, and for a  split second, she could see what the Guide could see.

"Oh how marvelous, beautiful and extravagant!" She exclaimed.  "Where is that place? I want to go there."

"That where you're headed."

"It is beautiful. I've never seen a place as magnificent as that. It is indescribable. When will we reach it?"

"You have some more years to go if you continue on your path."

"And if I don't, what happens then? Will I still reach that place?" The woman asked.

"Can't tell you that."

"What's it called? At least tell me, that and  don't say you can't tell me that.

"Zion. The city of your King.  Are you ready?"

"Yes, I'm ready," she said, and she jumped up from the bank and began to twirl and twirl as she sang the music that flowed out of her heart.

"Happy, you're happy," the Guide said and began to dance with her. They twirled and twirled, and the ocean roared beneath them.

"Yes, I am, the woman shouted. I may have some years to go, but I know where I am headed. I'm on my way to Zion."

I'm on my way to Zion,
To Zion,
To  Zion.
I'm on my way to Zion,
To the city of our great King. 

Pat Garcia 

Monday, April 29, 2013


"Years," the woman whispered. "It has been years?"

She looked out across the ocean. More than half of the water was behind her, but she still had some ways to go.

Years, since she had said yes;
Years, since she had taken her first steps;
Years, since she had she said goodbye;

To her family, her friends, and her neighbors,––years had gone by.

"A penny for your thoughts," the Guide said.

"My thoughts are many and various," the Woman replied.

"Would you like to talk about them?"

"They're nothing special. I was only thinking about years. It seems like only yesterday that I thought I would get through this quickly. But it hasn't happened that way. It's been years.   I seem to be moving, but there are times, when I don't seem to be moving at all. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, I understand what you mean."

"I think  I've crossed over the majority of this ocean, and I have over half of it behind me, but I'm not sure. Do you think I'll make it?"

"Yes, I think you will."

The Woman began to chuckle.

"Why are you laughing?" Asked the Guide.


"Because what?"

"Because I have been walking on this ocean for years. I would have never thought I could walk on an ocean, but I'm doing it."

"What finally convinced you that you could?"

"Could what?"

"Walk on the ocean."

"Those first steps I took."

"And what did you learn from those first steps?"

"That you never know until you step out there."

"Which means?"The Guide asked.

"There is no way around taking risks. Every day is a new beginning with new steps that run into months and years.  Do you agree with me?" The Woman asked.

"Yes, I do.  Shall we go?

"Yes, let's move on. How much longer do we have before we reach the other side?"

"Years, My Dear Friend, years. You still have some years before you," answered the Guide, and he smiled at the Woman who was no longer afraid to walk on the ocean.

Pat Garcia

Saturday, April 27, 2013


"What's that?" The woman asked.

"It's a xylophone," the guide answered.

"What does it do?"

"It makes music. Would you like to hear something?"

"Yes, I would love to.  Today, I am tired, yet there is a storm within me."

"Then I'll play you something soothing, and it will calm your storm."

"Do you think the instrument can calm the storm within me?"

"No, I didn't say  the instrument would calm the storm, but the piece I play for you will calm the storm."

"Then play for me. I am tired, and it seems as if it has been such a long time since I started this journey."

The guide began to play, at first deep notes that became light and easy, and  fast in tempo.  The woman sat on the ocean top like on a blanket that was spread out under a palm tree and listened.  It still fascinated her that she could sit or walk  on water without sinking, without getting wet, as long as she continued to move forward with her eyes focused ahead.

"That' beautiful," she said. "It is soothing. I feel calmer already."

"The music of the  xylophone does that to you," replied the guide. "It is like a harp in that its tones are oil for an aching soul."

"Do you think I can learn to play the xylophone?"

"If you want. Have you not yet learn that you can do anything that your heart desire's to do?"

"Will I play as beautiful as you?"

"You will never play as beautiful as I play because you will play according to your own ability, but whatever you play will be beautiful. Besides, beautiful is not determined by comparison."

"Why's that?"

"Because you will play from your heart, and that is what counts."

"Then, I think I will learn how to play the xylophone. When can I start?"

"Right now. Come here, and we'll play the first notes together."

Pat Garcia

Friday, April 26, 2013

Walk On!

April 1, 1776, this baby girl came into the world and would change the destiny of a nation and its ideas about women's education.  The mathematician taught herself Calculus, Geometry and Trigonometry.  Better than any of her male colleagues, she sat aside the myth that women did not have the brain for complex thinking.

June 27, 1831,  this pioneer, Sophie Germain, laid aside her human mantle and Walked On.

1797 or 1798, verification of the birth year cannot be confirmed: Slaves were not considered people.  Years later, this slave woman would stand out and give a speech in the Ohio Senate on Women's Rights that would shake a state and cause ripples as far as the White House.  Ain't I A Woman? She cried out and went down into the history books.

November 26, 1883, Sojourner Truth, the Ain't I A Woman lady laid aside her human mantle and Walked On.

1820 - month and day of birth unknown, the baby known as Black Moses opened her eyes in some slave hut in Dorchester County, Maryland. How many slave owners she frustrated in their futile attempts to catch and hang her, no one knows.  The number of people she helped into freedom cannot be measured in bodies, but  by the generations that sprung up out of these bodies she helped to escape.

March 10, 1913, Black Moses, Miss Harriet Tubman, was tired, and she laid aside her human mantle and Walked On.

June 27, 1880, a baby who became blind and deaf at the age of two would change the outlook of how handicapped people with disabilities were treated.  Deaf and blind she learned Braille, wrote books and showed that a human being is not defined by the limitations of his or her body.

June 1, 1968,  this pioneer, Miss Helen Keller, laid aside her human mantle and Walked On.

June 12, 1929,  born the youngest of two girls, this young girl had a dream.  She
had discovered her purpose in life but was unsure if she would have the opportunity to live her purpose out.  On  April 5, 1944 she wrote in her diary,

I finally realized that I must do my schoolwork to keep from being ignorant, to get on in life, to become a journalist, because that's what I want! I know I can write ..., but it remains to be seen whether I really have talent ...
And if I don't have the talent to write books or newspaper articles, I can always write for myself. But I want to achieve more than that. I can't imagine living like Mother, Mrs. van Daan and all the women who go about their work and are then forgotten. I need to have something besides a husband and children to devote myself to! ...
I want to be useful or bring enjoyment to all people, even those I've never met. I want to go on living even after my death! And that's why I'm so grateful to God for having given me this gift, which I can use to develop myself and to express all that's inside me!
When I write I can shake off all my cares. My sorrow disappears, my spirits are revived! But, and that's a big question, will I ever be able to write something great, will I ever become a journalist or a writer? (Anne Frank's Diary)
April 1945, this courageous young, fifteen year old girl,  her body rampant with typhus, tossed off her human mantle, and Miss Anne Frank departed Bergen-Belsen and Walked On.

Throughout history,  there have been men and women who have proven

That man's inhumanity to man 
That physical incapacities whether by birth or poverty
That prejudices and severe trials
That even death itself

Cannot stop the spirit of God residing in a person

That is willing to battle every adversity 

And Walk On.

Walk On, I say, Walk On.

Pat Garcia 

Text by Anne Frank taken from

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Vine, The Vine

It displays its flexibility as it winds itself around the tree,  hugging it tightly: The Vine stretches and spreads itself, giving life to  its branches.  The Vine is the source

That gives you life  
That brings you through periods of loneliness 
That comforts when people  forsake you 
That cheers you on when you have failed
That encourages you when your expected door does not open. 

The Vine is your belief system: it is the inner voice compelling you to keep going, not to give up.

Therefore, whatever dominates your life  resides within you: Whether it is

Love or hate,
Envy or jealousy,
Trust or fear,
Compassion or Kindness, 
Joy or Sincerity,
Gentleness or patience.

To think that the course of your life is  dependent upon your decision about The Vine is awesome.   Either The Vine  will become your

Dictator or your lover, 
Friend or your competitor,
Inner peace or your  inner war. 

The Vine is the never ending source that will walk with you throughout your maturation process: You will  never be alone.

Pat Garcia

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Unique, Uniques, Einzigartig, Unico

Unique: Being without equal, unparalleled; you're one of a kind.

When you walk around in a world of uniqueness, nothing is ugly; every person has an inherited beauty in your eyes that denies you to destroy it.  The thing that breathes becomes a precious part of your life circle as you pay homage to its:


Uniqueness is at war with every economic, sociological and political system that tries to make men and women alike. In uniqueness, equality does not exist.  How could it?  Men are formed from boys who become men that are different from other men, and women are formed from girls who become women who are different from other women. No one is alike, yet there is this futile effort by:

And the media, 

To make us all similar and to wipe out our differences.

If we lose,

Our uniqueness,
Notre Unicitè,
La nostra Unicità,
Unsere Einzigartigkeit,

We lose ourselves. No longer individuals, we become like everyone else, and our world becomes,

And dark.

"Enough," the woman replied yelling at the top of her voice.   She stomped her right foot against the ocean. "I demand answers to my questions."

"What questions?"

"All of the questions I've been asking you along the way. I demand answers, right now, or......"

"Or what?"

"Or you can forget the rest of the journey because I am staying here."

"Are you having a bad day?"

"No, I just want some answers:"

"I thought you wanted to fulfill your life's purpose."

"I do, but why can't I be  like the others?"

"So, you want to be like the others?"

"Yes and No."

"Then, why do you want to be like them?"

"Because it might be fun, and I wouldn't feel so alone."

"So you do want to be like the others?"

"Didn't you hear me say  Yes and No?  I'd much rather be me, but........."

"Then let's move on."

"But you haven't answered any of my  questions."

"I don't have to because you've answered all of them yourself."

"How did I do that?"

"By saying  you wanted to be who you are. No one else can be who you are but you. Beautiful in every way, you are unique."

"Which means?"

"Let's move on."

Pat Garcia

Uniques - French, Einzigartig - German, Unico - Italian and their noun derivatives are language translations courtesy of the Google Translator.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013


Tactful, an unguent art of

Saying no,
Correcting a misguided soul,
Making an improvement,
Helping someone through their dark night of the soul

Without being

Or intolerant,

Displays respect and acknowledgement of another human being's weaknesses and the inner wisdom derived from your inner knowledge, which shouts out saved, but for the grace of God, it could have been me.

Tactfulness does not judge:

It heals: 
It encourages: 
It forgives: 
It engages the suffering person to find a way out of their misery.

In today's society where people are more about having their voices heard, instead of being careful about the judgements they dish out, being tactful has lost its glamour.

We live in a society where we

Let it all hang out, 
Say what is on our minds, 
Speak the truth, but according to whom?   

We have proven through the results of our actions that received life through words spoken by our mouths that we don't see the tiny dot in the puzzle.

Three things have I learned so far on my  journey:

Life and death are in the power of the tongue:

Everyone is  accountable for the words that he or she speaks:

Words spoke in haste, 
Or damnation 

Will meet you around the corner:

A  causeless curse does not happen.  

Tactful people live longer and healthier. They are empowered by the spirit of meekness that gives them the ability to move higher.

Pat Garcia

Monday, April 22, 2013

Sever & Sail

When we sever,  we  forcibly toss ourselves into the fire.  We come up against the hardest task we will ever face before sailing out of life's harbor––the demon of loneliness: We come to terms with accepting ourselves: We become true friends first to ourselves and then to others.  

This painful process indicates: the dragon is dead.

That inferiority complex we held onto
That peer pressure we buckled under craving acceptance 
That excuse we used  for the non-utilization of our talents 
That pointed finger we raised at everyone else as the reason for our failure

Works no longer, and we come face to face with loneliness, and the tribute it demands if we do not master it.  

Whoever severs without turning back finds immense joy and peace: They discover the keys to happiness.  They become as Socrates once said, true to themselves.

"It hurts," the woman screamed. "It hurts."

"What did you expect?"

"I didn't expect this. I thought everyone would go along with me."

"They have other things to accomplish."

"Will I see them again?"

"You might or you might not see them again."

"It hurts," the woman cried, her eyes overflowing with tears.

The people walked past her and waved goodbye. Some had accompanied her for many miles on the journey.  They were family, friends, neighbors, and colleagues. They had encouraged her.  Now, they stood at the path that divided into several directions, and the  woman stood at her path alone. None of them stood with her: It hurt.

Sail on silver girl,
Sail on by, 
Your time has come to fly
All your dreams are on their way,
See how they fly. (1)

"Are you ready to set sail?"

"I'm not certain anymore. At first I thought it would be great to fulfill my purpose, but you didn't tell me I would have to give up people."

"Severing as you prepare to live out your purpose will always demand that you say goodbye."


"Are you ready to set sail?"

"Where are the others going?"

"That is not for you to know."

"But I want to know; I demand to know."

"Are you ready to set sail?"

"Does that mean you're not going to tell me?"

"Would you like to stay here?"

"No," she screamed. "I just want some bloody answers before I set sail."

The woman watched as the people began to disappear on the divided path that led into different directions, and she cried: The guide waited until she dried her tears.

"Are you ready to set sail?"

"Yes. Let's move on. Now I know."

"Would you like to tell me what you know?"

"Everything must change: Nothing remains the same," the woman replied.

Sail on silver girl,
Sail on by, 
Your time has come to fly
All your dreams are on their way,
See how they fly. (2)

Pat Garcia

Sail On Silver Girl, refrain from Simon & Garfunkel's, Bridge Over Troubled Water, 1970


Saturday, April 20, 2013


"Regenerate,"  whispered the wind. "Regenerate."

The water like a carpet under her feet, smooth and soft caressing the sole of her feet the young woman  looked down at what was happening beneath her and laughed. She saw shrimps gliding by, dolphins cruising under the water and fish with large and small heads and multi-colored bodies playing happily with one another.  Oh,  she thought.  If  only I  could rest for a while and take a little nap.

"Regenerate," whispered the wind. "Regenerate."

"Why can't you rest?"  The young woman looked to her right; her friend was standing beside her. " I believe it is time you regenerated.  You have made tremendous progress."

"But how? We are somewhere in the middle of the ocean. Besides, how far am I away from where I want to be. I have lost track of the time?"

"Well let's see. You started out when you were this high, and now you are this high; the lines in your face have matured."

"Really. You have grown more beautiful with age. At first you were a baby cub, now you are a mature panther."

The woman laughed aloud and said, "That's silly. Panthers don't walk on water."

"Oh really? Then why are you walking on water?"

"Sorry, maybe they can."

She changed the subject to thank him for his help. Was it five years back or maybe twenty. She was not quite sure anymore.  She only knew that the days had turned into years.

"Thank you for helping me a while back. I thought I was almost gone. That big wave almost drowned me."

"I would not have let it drown you."

"Why not? I made some significant mistakes and stopped when I shouldn't have."

"Oh my dear. I know that. I knew you were going to stop before you did."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, I'm not mad. In fact, I'm never mad when you reach out to explore. That's the inquisitiveness within you."

"Regenerate," whispered the wind. "Regenerate."

"Can we rest now? I would love to regenerate. I'm tired."

The guide picked her up, and she rested her head against his chest. "How far are you going to carry me?"

"To the palm tree."

"There's no palm tree in the middle of the ocean."

Her guide laughed as he pointed towards the sand bank with the palm tree.

"Does that look like water?"

The guide let her stand up to feel the sand under her feet. Surprised at the extravagance of the tiny island in the middle of the ocean, with one single, beautiful, green palm tree, the young woman fell to her knees and stretched herself out in the sand.

"Regenerate," whispered the wind. "Regenerate."

"Did you hear it?" She asked.

"Hear what?"

"The wind. It told me to regenerate."

"Yes, I heard it. Hungry?"

"Just a little. More tired than hungry."

"Then lie down on the sand and regenerate."

"I'd much rather reach the end, and then regenerate."

"But that is not good for you. Regeneration is like renewal."

"Will it make me younger?"

"It will make you wiser and prettier than ever before."

"And what will you do while I am regenerating?"

"I'll wrap the packages for the next part of your journey."

"What if I don't want any more packages?"

"My dear woman, you'll want these. You surely haven't come this far to turn around."

"No, I haven't." And the woman closed her eyes.

"Regenerate," whispered the wind. "Regenerate."

Pat Garcia

Friday, April 19, 2013


His body needed rest from a hard day's work, yet his eyes shone with light.

He had seen much, traveled many miles, and encountered many people in the small village,  yet his quest was not over. The star had appeared once again, and as he lay down for the night,  the man knew the next day, he would move on.

This is my quest, to follow that star,
No matter how hopeless, no matter how far, To fight for the right, without question or pause, To be willing to march into Hell for a Heavenly cause, (1)

It all began when he volunteered to show others,
A life of integrity, 
A life filled with hope, 
A life based on love, 
A life intertwined with joy, laughter and tears.  

Quest, the spiritual journey of the soul seeking eternity; the inner voice that demands that a person confront him or herself. The quest to reach out to that star and do the impossible, Yes, this is the 
quest that every soul yearns to find. 

And I know if I'll only be true, To this glorious quest, That my heart will lie peaceful and calm, When I'm laid to my rest. (2)

The man awoke and packed his bags. The people in the village begged him to stay.  
Some had tears in their eyes.
The children held on to his legs with tearful pleas of love in their eyes, 
yet the man knew staying behind would only hinder their own journey.  

As he observed them all, he said, "Come my little ones. I must go. I have 
taught you all you need to know. Now you may also reach for that star.

A little girl looked up at him and asked, "You mean, I can do what you have done?"
And the world will be better for this That one man scorned and covered with scars Still strove with his last ounce of courage To reach the unreachable star! (3)

Pat Garcia

Highlighted verses 1, 2, and 3 originates from THE IMPOSSIBLE DREAM (THE QUEST)
From the Musical "Man Of La Mancha" (1965) (Joe Darion / Mitch Leigh)

Thursday, April 18, 2013


Predominating people exert control. They have an internal  control switch that repeatedly displays  what predominates their lives.

What predominates your life?

 Is it,

Or Respect.

Whatever it is, it will determine the inner joy and peace that resonate within you.

Predominate is the act of exceeding outside of  the norm, and  living on a higher plain, but  predomination can also slip into the negative as seen from the list above and become a destructive element that ruins your life.

Be careful, for example,  with self-righteousness.  People endowed with this character trait are predominately control by correctness.   Their control button goes off,  and their corrective attitude comes to the forefront, as soon as they find one tiny mistakes.  These are  people who will find something wrong with whatever you do.  It doesn't matter whether they are right or wrong.  Their philosophy is not to  look over anything that someone else does wrong.  If you want to live a healthy life then walk away from such people.

Seek out people who are predominated by true north principles of
And respect.

 These  are people who walk a higher road.  They are not led by,

Or fame.  

Their own achievements bring  them joy and their lives are predominately encircled with  building other people up.  Predominant people who walk in true north principles know the value of

Letting people grow into what whatever they are supposed to be,
And most important of all, they know when to keep their mouths shut. 

What kind of predominant person are you?

Pat Garcia

Wednesday, April 17, 2013


"Over yonder," said the Prophet, "Where you want to go is over yonder."

The young girl looked at the vast body of water before her.  Like the blue crystal carbuncle that it mirrored, the ocean had never been prettier. As far as her eyes could see, the young girl could only see the ocean, yet the Prophet was telling her that where she wanted to go  was over yonder.

"But how do I get over yonder?" Replied the young girl. "I don't have a boat, and If I had one, I couldn't row it, and my swimming is not good at all. I need those baby fins for little children if I want to swim over that big body of water."

"Can't give you any fins," said the Prophet.  "Only the fish are allowed to swim over yonder with their fins."

"So, how do you expect me to get over yonder?  Do you expect me to fly?"

"Nope. I can't give you any wings. Only the birds are allowed to fly over yonder."

"Don't tell me you expect me to crawl over yonder. You can't crawl on water."

"Sure can't. Only snakes crawl, and they are poisonous little critters that will poison you  if you let them. You don't want to hang around them buzzards.  Besides, you weren't made to crawl."

So, how do I get over yonder? Are you going to carry me?"

Nope, I can't carry you, but I'll be your guide  and keep you company.

"You mean you're not going to leave me alone?"

"Of course not. What made you think that?"

"Because I don't see the boat that brought you here."

"Little girl, I don't need a boat."

"So, how did you get over here from over yonder:"

"The same way that you are going to reach over yonder."

"Now, I am really confused," said the girl. "It seems like we're  talking in riddles, and I hate riddles!"

"Nope,  we're not talking in riddles, little girl. Are you ready?"

To humor him, the  girl stood up beside the Prophet.  Both stood before the ocean,  and the waves played with their feet.

"I'm ready," she said.

"Whatever happens, don't look at the waves," the Prophet said.  "They can be mighty scary at times, but you're alright as long as you're headed over yonder."

"Oh, I thought you were going with me."

"I am, but there will be times when you won't see me."

"What do I do then?"

"Just keep going straight. If the waves get rough, I'll come and carry you until they quiet down."

"How do you know I'll need help if you're not with me."

"Trust me," said the Prophet.  "You are in my care, even if you don't see me. I'll be there.  It's time to start?"

The small waves rushed at their feet; Shocked, the little girl stood beside the Prophet. The waves lifted them up and stood between their feet and the sand.

With amazement in her eyes, she looked up at the Prophet.  "What's  happening? Why aren't my feet touching the ground?"

The Prophet laughed. "You want to go over yonder or have you changed your mind?"

"No, I want to go."

"Then start walking.  To get there, you have to learn how to walk the water."

Pat Garcia