Coffee in a teacup

He was then silent. So was I. The coffee shop deserted. I began lifting my teacup of coffee, and stopped in mid-air. Looked up. He returned my stare. I then answered,

“Have your words and thoughts live longer than yourself. Perhaps your words, your writings, your creation, your videos, your music, your blog posts would be read and consumed again and again by people from all walks of life, to gain encouragement, to smile, to share, to get inspired, to move towards God, to find Him, to discover the magic that is the Human Self, to live life as if it was the only one they’d get, to treat their bodies and minds like sanctuaries rather than amusement parks, and to live each day till the day they die.

Will that be success? “

I took a sip.

“I would take a shit load of money instead,” he said.

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