August 18, 2010

I’ve been re-reading Paolo Coelho’s The Alchemist, a really good book that last time i read in 2007. I still hazily remember about Santiago, warrior of light, personal legends, and the Englishmen. I suddenly remembered too the time when someone read me the last bit of the book over the phone, but that’s another *ahem* story. What I always skipped is the introduction by the author himself in the beginning of the book. I tend to skip this part when I read other books, because I want to be immersed and unspoiled in reading the story itself. The Alchemist is one of my older book which I bought at the start of my “I-have-to-read-a-book-so-I-don’t-get-crazy-in-this-machine-minded-college” and has only been read once, so it’s rather special by itself.

This time, I read the introduction and there lies words that I’ve been missing for the last 3 years. I’ll write the short version of it below.

…we are then faced by the second obstacle (to confront our own dream) : love.
We know what we want to do, but are afraid of hurting those around us by abandoning everything in order to pursue our dream.
We do not realize that love is just a further impetus, not something that will prevent us going forward.
We do not realize that those who genuinely wish us well want us to be happy and are prepared to accompany us on that journey.

We who fight for our dream suffer far more when it doesn’t work out,
because we cannot fall back on the old excuse: “Oh, well, I didn’t really want it anyway.”

…then comes the fourth obstacle: the fear of realizing the dream for which we fought all our lives.
Oscar Wilde said: “Each man kills the thing he loves.” And it’s true.
The mere possibility of getting what we want fills the soul of the ordinary person with guilt.
We look around at all those who have failed to get what they want and feel that we do not deserve to get what we want either.
We forget about all the obstacles we overcame, all the suffering we endured, all the things we had to give up to get this far.

Next time, never left pages unturned.


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