About Miri

Born and raised in Germany, Miri lived & worked in various countries before she moved to Greater Sydney, Australia, in 2012, where she lives with her husband, three children, and their cat.

Miri loves deep conversations, great books, dark chocolate truffles, watching whales & dolphins, colorful bracelets, delicious soups, and writing. She can’t live without her daily coffee or cat cuddles.

After a career in corporate and as a mum, she courageously committed to her childhood dream of becoming a writer.

In her free time, Miri is an aspiring martial artist and loves to explore the planet.

Check out Miri’s blog on health, mental well-being, parenting, spirituality, and writing on her website worldofmiri.com.

Where did the idea for the book come from?

Read the full story here:

How I surrendered to the creative flow and wrote a book

I was in the middle of a health challenge and had started seeing an intuitive therapist for the first time in my life. Right at the beginning, she told me she could see me writing books, having a blog and owning a website. I was aghast. Me? A blog? I couldn’t see that happening. What would I even blog about? I didn’t have anything of importance to share, did I?

Still, the part about writing books was intriguing. A childhood dream floated back into my conscious mind. Had I not always wanted to be a writer? Was I not always writing something?

Even throughout my corporate career and as a mum of toddlers, I had never really ceased to write. In fact, there are at least three unfinished novels, a few children’s stories, and countless poems sitting on my computer, waiting to be released into the wild.

Still, I had never made the conscious decision to call myself a writer. Maybe because I did not trust my skills? Maybe because I did not think my writing was worth sharing?

After my therapist pointed me into the direction of writing, it took me another two years before I decided to dedicate myself 100%. The kids were old enough to allow me more space, I was in the fortunate position not to have to earn money, and I felt strong enough after going through my deep depression. The outer circumstances appeared perfect. When else would be a better moment?

I stopped the few private lessons I was still teaching and committed to writing every day. I made writing my priority. Everything else had to wait: laundry, cooking, social connection, and sports. This was different. On some days, I only managed to write for thirty minutes. On other days, I lasted up to four hours. I wrote poems, worked on several novels, or journaled; all in my native tongue (German).

One day, about three months into the practice, I was outside sweeping the driveway. It was a monotonous activity which felt meditative. My mind was open and clear. There was nothing to think about, only the next stroke of the broom.

Suddenly, a voice popped into my head and started telling me a story.

It went like this:

“Phew, we made it!” Master Mouse sighed with relief. …