Shambhavi looked at an old leather-covered book placed on the desk. The pages were faded and yellow. It was late in the day and wearying. She was overwhelmed — writing, learning all the things — trying to do all the things. An extrovert in her home but reserved in her social life, she alternated between deep thoughtfulness and sudden bursts of creativity. But today, she didn’t know where she was headed.
She looked at the book again. Its cover had faded gold lettering, which was challenging to read. She’d found it at a snug little thrift shop humming with the smell of faded memories. Something about this book made her feel as if it had a secret. She had paged through it but never actually read it.
Shambhavi wasn’t merely a writer — she always sought meaning. She loved learning — whether baking , painting, or learning a new language. She wanted to know everything, but lately, all that curiosity seemed too much. She was trying to do too many things simultaneously, which made her tired.
The book had been a present to herself when she was feeling low — a way to remind herself to take it easy. But until now, it had simply gathered dust on her shelf.
She opened it carefully, her fingers tracing the ink lines on the page. It didn’t all add up like the pieces of a puzzle. But then she noticed something else. One page was off slightly. The words on it appeared to sparkle faintly under her desk lamp.
She turned the page slowly — and there it was. A tiny sentence in rounded, fading penmanship:
“Amongst the cacophony of change, discover the notes that resonate with your spring. You are the key, not the keyhole.”
Shambhavi froze. What did this mean? Who had written it? The handwriting seemed ancient, but the message felt like it was for her alone.
She reclined, deep in thought. She’d always loved to write, learn, help, and experiment. But at times, she felt she was getting lost in the process.
“You are the key, not the lock,” rang powerfully. Perchance, she did not have to run after more skills, after more knowledge. Maybe she already had what she needed in her.
She rose, her chair scraping noisily to the earth. She needed to know more. She leafed through the pages rapidly, searching for additional clues. And then, down at the bottom, she noticed another message:
“You are the unwritten story. Choose your way and let your words heal the world.”
Tears came to her eyes. It felt as if the book—and perhaps the universe—was talking to her. She had spent her entire life trying to be everything to everyone, which was exhausting. But these words brought this fact back to her attention: her story mattered.
She was not some random stuff learner. She was an artist at life — making beauty out of everything she touched. It was no issue that confusion reigned in her mind. It was a glimpse that might evolve into something better.
Shambhavi smiled. Her uncompromising passion, for all its demands on others, was a gift. There were lots of different paths to follow, and that was O.K. She didn’t have to be perfect. Now, all she had to do was to continue and trust that her journey meant something.
She shut the book, all at peace. The message had reached her. The chaos she felt within wasn’t something to resist. It was a part of her. And from it, she could make something special.
She seated herself again, picked up her pen, and wrote—not worrying about getting it right but letting the words tumble onto the page. Her story was beginning.
Shambhavi’s Journey
In the following days, Shambhavi felt purposeful again. She continued writing — but now, she told her story to others because people connected to her words, not because they were immaculate but because they were authentic.
She stopped hiding behind a smile or shoving aside her sadness. She treated herself as an open vessel. And that made her stronger. Those who had previously just enjoyed her work now felt she was inspiring them with her honesty. She proved that you don’t have to have all the answers to lead a meaningful life.
She didn’t have to do everything right; she had to be inquisitive, crafty, warm, and authentic. The answers would come, bit by bit, as long as she continued to walk her way.
Then it had finally clicked for Shambhavi: It had always been about her. And, with that, she continued to write her story, one courageous step at a time.
A MESSAGE FOR YOU
If you have ever feared missing out (FOMO) on what you are zealous about, felt lost about where to go next, or are being pulled in too many directions—like you are always rotating but getting nowhere—be comforted that you are not alone. Your path, as with that of Shambhavi, does not have to be perfect to be meaningful. You already have the keys to our power, passion, and purpose.
May this tale remind you: it’s OK to slow down, to heed your voice, and to trust that every departure — yes, even the uncertain quantities — is taking you somewhere beautiful. Your story matters. Like Shambhavi, you , too, can turn this chaos into something sublime.
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