There was no plan. No grand idea that one day I would write a book. Honestly, when I think back to how it started, it almost makes me smile because the circumstances could not have been less romantic.
For the hardest part of those five months, due to persistent and debilitating vertigo, I could do little more than lie still. No work, no movement, no ordinary rhythm of life. Just stillness, and eventually, words.
Writing became the place where I could breathe. Where I could release thoughts that had nowhere else to go. While the outer world felt unstable, the page became something solid. I wrote without a plan and without a filter, and I think that is precisely why it turned out to be the most honest thing I have ever written.
Why it became a book
The real answer to this is my two children, Petar and Adrian.
During those months, the most important thing to them was that I was okay. And somewhere along the way, they noticed that writing made me okay. They would tell everyone, with that particular mix of pride and excitement that only children have, that their mum was writing a book.
One day, one of them said something I will never forget: “Mum, you are amazing. Even when you can’t do anything, you always find a way to do something extraordinary.”
That was the moment I understood this needed to exist properly. Not just for me, but for them. This book is a strange and beautiful thing to have made, it lets the people who love you know you in ways that everyday life rarely allows. I wanted them to have that. A bound trace of my thoughts, my struggles, my faith, something alive that stays even when I am not around.
What the book actually is
It is not a self-help book. It does not give instructions or tell you what to do.
It is lyrical prose — short, reflective pieces that follow the search for balance when the ground beneath you shifts. Each chapter opens with a biblical passage that was my own anchor while writing, and I invite you to sit with that passage before you read my words. Let it touch whatever it touches in your own life first.
At its heart, the book asks questions rather than answers them. Questions about which parts of our lives we have chosen freely, and which we have inherited from expectations we never examined. It is also, quietly, a critique of the pace we are all living at — the pressure to always be more, faster, stronger — and an invitation to slow down and ask what actually matters.
That is what I was writing toward.
How to read it
Slowly. That is all I ask.
This is not a book for a commute or a distracted afternoon. It is for a quiet morning, or an evening when you want to come back to yourself. If one sentence stays with you and makes you feel a little closer to who you actually are, then it has done everything I hoped it would.
Where to find it
The book is available in paperback, hardcover and as an e-book on Amazon, and through this website.
If you read it, I would love to know what stayed with you.
