Epistle 00 : An Introduction to The Open Epistles

I've always been infatuated with the power of words. There's something so sacred about them. They travel through us before they come from us, whether spoken or written. That is why I chose to call these writings Epistles. Not simply letters, but waves of consciousness shaped into form. Thoughts with rhythm. Messages with breath. The name carries a depth that feels timeless, a nod to philosophy, to spirit, to something beyond me. It feels biblical, yes, but not because I come to preach or claim prophecy. It feels right because I see myself as a vessel for the Creator to speak through creativity.

These Epistles are written from where life is lived, from a level in the middle, right at the heart of it all. I am no higher, no wiser, just someone still grinding, walking through this journey, searching, failing, learning, and still choosing to share. I write from the process itself, not from a place of completion, but from the flow of becoming.

Each Epistle is a thought, a wave, a piece of my consciousness cast out to whoever may find it. They are expressions too: sometimes spiritual, sometimes philosophical, sometimes simply the words of a man trying to make sense of the burden and brilliance of existence. They may entertain, they may comfort, they may challenge, they may even anger. They are written to connect. Written so that in your quiet moments, you might feel less alone in your thinking. Written because someone, somewhere, needs them.

My name is Chris Isaie. The initials C.I. belong to me, but they also represent what I live by: Creative Insight, Continuous Improvement, and Collective Inspiration. I am, at my core, a thinker, a creator, and an idealist. My mother used to call me her little philosopher, and she was right. These Epistles are the space where I embrace who I am and lean into that part of myself. They are where I let my curiosity speak.

Through these words, my goal is simple: to evoke something positive in you.

A spark of emotion. A thought that uplifts. A feeling that moves you closer to giving more to life and, in turn, receiving more from it.

The frequency of this work connects closely with the idea behind Project Always Winning. But these Epistles are not about triumph and the pursuit of victory alone. They are about the climb, the process, the struggle, and the strength it takes to keep moving forward when no one is watching.

I’ve learned what it means to lose faith. When my mum transitioned into the higher life, I lost my compass. I drifted through years of numbness, living with less passion and less purpose. I told myself that once she was gone, I would finally live, as I had put my life on hold to care for her. Yet I could not find the strength to do it. I never stopped believing, but I disconnected from source and rejected the higher power’s unconditional love. In doing so, I lost the essence of who I was. I blocked my blessings and gave in to the darker elements.

But even then, even in that brokenness, something still moved through me.

I still wrote. I still created.

I became part of a story that reached people and made a mark. A Sunday Times bestseller. Proof that even in weakness, I could still function. I could still channel something greater.

I thank my mother for the wisdom she carried and my father for the perspective he gave. Between them, I learned to see life from more than one angle. To embrace both faith and logic. Both chaos and calm. To keep an open mind and an open heart. I am still healing, and perhaps these writings are part of that healing.

If these words have found you, they were meant to. They are not here to instruct but to gently guide. To remind you that within both the mayhem and the stillness, there is always something out there worth listening to.

Working on this piece brought me to tears. That is because I create with my whole being. It's difficult to explain, but when I write, I am either channelling or speaking to the interconnected soul of humanity. I’ve held this idea close for almost a decade, so to finally bring The Open Epistles to life at this point in my journey, carrying both the weight and the wonder of my reality, means more to me than I could ever express through words alone.

And if one line, one phrase, or one feeling from this Epistle lingers long after you leave, then my purpose for this first offering has already been fulfilled.

Yours gratefully,

Chris Isaie