15 Dec

Last night, I thought I’d read something inspiring – thought-provoking, so I began looking through the spiritual books I keep in my room. When I came across this book, I wondered why it was up here cuddled cozily between Chopra and Osteen. Notwithstanding its title, it didn’t look like it fit, but I pulled it out anyway, and began reading.

Last year, my friend Winnie, whom I’ve yet to meet face to face, sent me several books, including this one. The short synopsis on the back cover, in part, tells me that this is a mystery love story: “When Julia Win’s father disappears one day, her family is shocked and confused. That is, they are until they find a love letter he’d written many years ago to a Burmese woman.” So why had this book found its way upstairs where mystery and love stories clearly don‘t belong?

Approximately fifty pages in, I realized why I settled The Art of Hearing Heartbeats, in my room. The book, after all this time of patiently waiting in silence, had chosen this moment in my life to make its presence known. After all, it is the book that decides when it is to be read and by whom.  Isn’t it?


First published in German as Das Herzenboren – 2002
Published in English by agreement with Verlags-gruppe Random House GmbH – 2006
Soft cover edition 325 pages
Eastern spirituality


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