This is the first post on the site, so I'd like to give you something that empowers you to do what's currently most important for you. There will be no creative writing exercise, pacing-on-the-floor NLP, nor the ten secrets of happiness. I'll reveal those next week.

This time I'd instead send you a tale, a metaphorical story, which you can take any way you want. Actually, you don't even need to understand it since the strongest suggestions are invisible. But of course, some of them may not be.

Hereupon thoughts possess such an unmeasurable certainty that refuting them would be pointless and ultimately a waste of time, so let's get started.

Once upon a time, a sac of oat grains was traveling in an old lady's bag. Her name was Aunt Rose, and she was also traveling. She was on her way home, riding her bicycle to her humble flowery house. The house wasn't going anywhere, though - it was the only exception.

The lady's life, full of experience, excitement, discovery, joy, and grandchildren - even being exceedingly interesting - will not make an appearance in this tale. It would be way too long. Let's focus on something smaller, like them:

The oat grains

The oat grains have been waiting a while for someone to carry them, they were packed two weeks ago, so they had time to get to know each other. There were more than three hundred of them, all sorts and kinds of oat grains.
Some loved to travel in groups with others and just sleep all day.
Some were always up to something. The others sometimes let them down.

Then some were just absolutely popping like corn.

It was a crowd of all sorts. But they all agreed on one thing: The peak of an oat grain's life is when it sparks new life.

The optimists of the group were hoping that the lady will plant them in her garden, where they can happily grow under the Sun.

However, the pessimists were afraid that they would end up in a cake, or worse, in the grinder.

Aunt Rose intended to plant them, but they didn't know that. The popping sorts of them were jumping around:

- Go away! I can't see anything. I want to look around. We must do something.

They were so energetic that the jumping and bouncing loosened the strings of the bag. Seven oat grains fell out of the sac and into the bag.

They were scared, and they tried to regroup fast. Luckily, senses are sharper in a life-threatening situation, so they could find each other and squeeze into a corner fairly quickly.

- What do we do now?
- Stay together!
- But what should we do?
- Just stay together, the lady will notice us when we arrive, and she will save us.
- Save us? Are you crazy? The rest will end up in yogurt, but we've just got a chance.
- Help me make a hole in the bag!

Aunt Rose never liked yogurt, she just went to the market, and her bag wasn't some lame plastic bag either. It was a nice, colorful, handmade bag.
It's better, prettier, and it becomes a crucial factor in the tale of these seven oat grains, as they were able to make a small hole in the corner of the bag. The first one was hanging onto the tiny opening in the corner and gazed under the lady. Hey, don't think of it the wrong way! The little seed was looking down at the ground. Instead of dark places, he was seeking hope.

Even though they were excited, the others didn't say anything because it was so god damn stressful.
The brave seed saw a road under himself. He released a big sigh and told the others:

- Guys. This is concrete.

A heavy silence fell upon them. So heavy that one of the bag-flaps broke. But they were still traveling.

- But what do we do on concrete? Should we go for it? After all, the wind provides better chances than Aunt Rose, doesn't it?

Just before they would break from the stress, the brave one yelled:

- Soil! Soil! Soil!

That was all they heard before their friend disappeared.

The following grain of oat took his place, along with a deep breath, but before he would throw himself at the ground, he quickly grabbed the ledge in terror.
It was concrete again.

In the following two minutes, it was clear to our travelers that the ground was changing from concrete to soil radically. Of course, they couldn't have known that aunt Rose just likes to take shortcuts and is willing to ride her bicycle on soil for a bit.

The second oat grain was lucky. He was able to drop at the right time and land on the soil.

Five of them left.

The third seed (she was a girl) failed the jump. She landed on concrete.

She was furious, but then later, the wind picked her up, and she went so far, no one knows where she ended up.

The fourth and fifth seeds jumped at the same time, holding hands, with bright eyes, full of hope, but aunt Rose hit a bump, and they flew a huge distance before landing on a bank of a river, in the wet grass. A few weeks later, they were happily holding each other, swaying in the wind. Good for them!

The sixth has made peace with himself, the world, and aunt Rose. When the time came, he jumped. He fell slowly, like an autumn leaf. The wind picked him up, and he found himself on the concrete. He closed his eyes. However, the wind got him again and dropped him off in a nice little hole on the side of a field. He opened his eyes. He saw clouds in the blue sky, and this could only mean that everything is all right. He was dreaming of beautiful things for two years. Until one day, he woke up and started growing happy sprouts.

The seventh seed was a rather ordinary fellow. He couldn't quite understand how he even ended up in a story like this, and especially why he is the last one to jump. He was a bit worried, but in the end, he jumped out of the hole when he thought the time was right.
However, the shortcut that aunt Rose took was quite a slight turn. Therefore the seed landed on concrete, where he landed harshly and suffered some injury. But then he felt pain again, and the world around him went dark.

He was hit by the rear wheel, and a pebble pinned him inside the concrete.

When he regained consciousness, he couldn't feel a thing. There was nothing else to do. So, that's why he was left last.

He gritted his teeth.

...

After ten years has passed, Aunt Rose was still going strong, riding her bicycle.
Though her life has been enriched during this time even more, she will only get a small part at the end of this story again. Aunt Rose's phone started to ring on her way home, and no one else could possibly call her at this time except her daughter, so she quickly parked the bicycle and got into a bit of chat.

However, at the end of the call, she caught sight of that beautiful, mellow oat straw growing out of the concrete near the road, right in front of her. "It must be a really peculiar plant" - the lady thought to herself and just stared silently at the handsome being for a while. Then she collected a few grains of oat and put them in a small handkerchief carefully. It's going to look nice in the garden at home.