Kris realized he’d lost control of his limbs. His eight-year-old self finished buying the ticket for a plane leaving in two weeks and three days. Get ready to go, he heard in his head. Kris’s eight-year-old self stood and walked to the middle of the office, where people were gathering for coffee on their way into the morning meeting. He said:
“Hey. General announcement. I’m going to take some time off. One year, to be exact. I already have my ticket … so this is my notice.”
Kris felt his younger self ready to do some high kicks. He worked hard to keep his feet on the ground and quickly returned to his office, so he didn’t fall on his face.
“I’ll talk to the board this afternoon, maybe take a sabbatical,” he said to his executive secretary. “Start delegating my calendar.” She nodded.
Kris closed the door, leaned back in his chair, and stared in shock. Tears welled in his eyes, and he began laughing uncontrollably. Thanks, Dad.
Chapter 2
Kris grabbed his bag off the conveyor belt at the Paris airport and began looking for ground transport. He could do whatever he wanted, something he hadn’t considered in years.
An elderly woman struggled to take her heavy bag off the conveyer belt. Her coat was caught, dragging her along and she was about to fall. Kris ran over and gave her his arm to steady herself as he grabbed the coat and bag off the conveyer belt.
“Are you alright? Do you need more help?”
The rattled elderly woman steadied herself, released Kris’s arm and got her suitcase situated again. “You’re so kind. I’m okay now,” she smiled.
Kris took the train into Paris from the airport and got off at the station near his hotel. He passed three restaurants and was hungry for dinner. He hated decisions. He walked inside one restaurant and saw a waiter serving scallops and asparagus in some yummy French sauce. He got the waiter’s attention, pointed to the dish, placed his order, and sat down.
Wandering cobblestone streets and exploring back alleys, Kris watched people live their lives. Fishermen, shopkeepers, physicians. He wondered how many felt satisfied. Some people visibly thrived. They glowed as if surrounded by a warm light. Kris saw people thriving from every walk of life.
Then he noticed gray-looking people. They scowled, complained, and made excuses. As Kris listened to passersby, he discovered the gray people demanded control, felt like victims, and saw few options. They did not believe in possibility, like the people who glowed. Kris was intrigued.
What makes a person glow or go gray? Even the children were different colors. Was it the jet lag? Did his eight-year-old self see colors on people?
He lay on his hotel bed surrounded by maps and books, wondering where to start this great adventure. He poured through guidebooks and wrote down places that sounded interesting.
Then he stopped and lay back on his bed realizing he had absolutely no idea what he was doing here. “Dearest eight-year-old self,” Kris wrote on his paper. “What are we doing? Please, write it down so I can make a decision.”
He looked up and smiled. “I’m officially nuts.”
He watched his hand write on the page: “Train station.”
Kris packed his small bag and got ready to leave, then set the alarm for an early morning.
He arrived at the train station to find it was crowded. He stared at the list of places he could go. There were so many to choose from. He had his notes organized, but still felt uncertain.
Out of the corner of his eye, an exceptionally small man caught his attention. The man wore a little green vest, black plaid pants, and a tall top hat. He also had a crystal-clear stone in his vest pocket. The light from the stone flashed in Kris’s eyes. The man stepped forward and beckoned him. “Pssst,” he said. “Down here.” He had the brightest orange glow yet. Kris wondered if he’d lost his marbles completely as he knelt.
“These are your instructions. Listen carefully,” he said. Kris saw the man’s wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. “See that reader board with all the station names?” Kris looked and nodded. “I want you to stare at it. You see? Look at the whole list at once. Then wait.”
Kris looked over at the list that hung on the wall next to the booth.
“Tell me if any standout. Stare until they pop off the list. Those are the ones.”
Kris continued to stare at the list. “Oh. Yes, I see. One popped.”
“It has winked at you,” the old man said solemnly. “Those are the places you must go.” He said excitedly. “You will have a better experience if you travel this way and accept the invitations presented,” he said. “This works in all of your decision-making. Efficient ... You don’t want the gray people to control your life, do you? If you go with the winks, you will always be surrounded by those who glow. You’ll rediscover your own glow.” He smiled and bowed.
“My glow?”
“Of course. We are all here to find our glow. You’ve noticed that some are covered in gray film. Have you seen them try to steal light from others? It’s a bit disturbing. Protect yourself from the gray ones. They are energy takers. Stay in the warm light.” He smiled broadly.
Kris nodded. “Okay, I’ll go to that town that popped and wander through the side streets.” He smiled. “I’ll go there for dinner tonight.”
“Pick your restaurant the same way.” He grinned.
The old man with the green vest took his top hat off and placed it over his heart, then gave an elaborate farewell bow. The crystal he wore flashed again as he disappeared into the crowd.
Chapter 3
Kris became comfortable with the old man’s advice. At first he had to pay close attention, so he didn’t get lost. His senses became more refined. He consistently found what he was looking for and realized trusting his instincts was a muscle he could
