I simply stood by a pond in solitude, meditating on what lie ahead. The only things I had with me were my hungry determination and my silent confidence, and the only sounds that came from me were those of my breathing lungs and sturdy heart. These things reminded me not just that I was alive, but why I was alive. I saw the soft breeze create dozens upon dozens of ripples in the pond – too many to count. They were patternistic distortions that made the glassy surface of the water tremor before my mere presence.