As an internationally acclaimed blogger whose much anticipated postings are eagerly devoured by loyal subscribers all around the world (one of my two subscribers read blog 4 while on vacation in Europe and blog 6 while waiting for a delayed flight in Cape Town), I will share with you the challenges I face daily in trying to decide how best to provide you, my devoted readers, with fascinating and educational insights into the inner workings of the human mind.

So many of you (the other subscriber) have (has) shared with me the mounting excitement you feel as each week starts to wind down and you know you will soon be able to escape into the warm comfort of my newest posting, laughing uproariously at the cerebral humour, while stretching yourself to comprehend the deep learning’s so skilfully embedded in each edition.

 You have talked about the ever increasing frequency of visits to your inbox asking yourself “is it here yet?” and the crushing disappointment when you realize it is not.

 I am deeply encouraged by the thousands of letters and emails I have received from adoring fans thanking me for so selflessly improving their lives and encouraging me, no, begging me, keep on blogging.

 So deeply have I been moved by these many touching stories of personal growth and enlightenment achieved by reading my blog that I have securely archived both of them in a tissue-lined shoebox under my desk.

 I realize it would be both inappropriate and unfair to single out any one letter for special mention in my blog but there is one that I received this week that so perfectly captures the angst of the writer and so dramatically illustrates the life-altering healing power of magnificently worded blogs that I feel compelled to reproduce it, in its entirety, for all to see.

 Please read the following slowly to ensure complete comprehension.

 Dear Rael,

 I think your blog is stupid.

 I think you’re stupid.

 Love,

 Brenda.

 Just knowing I have contributed so much to so many is gratifying beyond description.

 As soon as I was able to dry my eyes and compose myself I rushed upstairs to the office of my dear friend, mentor and assistant puppy trainer who also serves as a psychologist, and presented the letter for analysis.

 She studiously examined the letter, rose from her desk and withdrew two large, intimidating leather manuals from a dusty section of a bookshelf labelled “??” and buried herself in their offerings, all the while furiously writing notes on a little yellow sticky thing.

 Finally, after consulting the universal source of everything, Wikipedia, she .declared “Brenda is Canadian as only a Canadian would be so polite in calling you an idiot,” and promptly billed me $300.00 for the consultation.

 Is there a point to all of this?  I hope so, and here’s what I think it is.

 Some of you will find humour in these few words and enjoy a laugh or two. Some, like Brenda, will declare this “stupid” and resolve to waste no more precious time on reading the rantings of a less than bright person.

 Regardless of whether you laugh, side with Brenda or land somewhere else in your evaluation of this blog, the true learning for us all is that it is not the contents of this blog that cause you to choose one (or none) of the above, it is the meaning you elect to place on the contents of this blog.

 Which is what I’m trying to say.

 What happens in life happens in life. Sometimes we have influence over this and sometimes we don’t. How we respond is determined solely by the meaning we place on each happening and we always have influence over this.

 Y’know what I mean?

 Till we read again,