Anchors Aweigh

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It is our very nature to move forward. Some recognize this inner pull as easily as they recognize hunger. Others are numb to it; living an entire lifetime without acknowledging the undercurrent of their own waters.

Not only do I live in full awareness of my undercurrent, I also notice the waves upon the water’s surface that knock me off course when allowed. I can, however, push through the waves. But it takes strong resolve to do so and there are times when my resolve has grown weary. But like hope, it is never gone.

However, for resolve and hope to spin their magic; to propel us where we are meant to go, we must jettison those things that keep us tied down to the past or to those things that no longer serve us. How can a ship move steadily forward with any amount of speed if it is dragging numerous anchors behind. We do this without even thinking, though. Some of us keep anchors dropped deep into the sand, as if those anchors define us; as if we’d lose a part of ourselves if we were to draw up the anchor. And yet those anchors are not us, we are the boat. The anchors are merely bits and pieces of our life, our past, that have become entrenched into our being. Their familiarity has made distinguishing between the two a bit murky.

Sometimes even dreadful states of being, emotional responses such as fear and doubt are mistakenly believed to be a clear representation of who we are. And yet, they are not. They are merely a reaction we carried out repeatedly, based upon a set of circumstances that came our way. The more familiar they became, the more we let the anchor dig itself in. But these responses, keep us tied down and held in a place that prevents us from moving forward. All of us drop the anchor of worry, doubt and fear. And while there; while held steadily in place, I have to believe much is to be learned. So while there, while your ship is kept motionless, examine that part of yourself. But once done, raise the anchor and allow your natural state of being to emerge – allow yourself to sail forward.

As we move into the weekend, notice your boat. Notice your natural state of being. Notice the way you immediately feel lighter when happy and propelled by joy. Also notice what it is that is weighing you down. Look back at the anchors you are dragging behind. While in the moment they may have served you, they no longer do; bring them up; feel your ship lift and begin to glide again. You control this boat of yours. You and you alone. So give yourself this – lift anchor, put your hand on the wheel, and set sail. Move in the direction of your joy.

Sane

Full of Life

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If anyone would have asked me while young, if having an alcoholic father was a good thing – I would have given a resounding no for an answer. And yet in hindsight it has caused me to be the poignant writer and compassionate speaker that I am. Not to mention given me the keen awareness and emotional layers needed to help others – my mission in life.

So out of this most painful time, I learned the skills needed to carry out my purpose. In keeping with yesterday’s post, its obvious my soul and that of my father’s had made an agreement well before I let out my first squeal as a baby.

But this was just an opportunity presented to me in the form of a childhood I couldn’t escape. But I was the one who determined if it would lend to my greater purpose or be the crutch on which I leaned for the rest of my life. With every circumstance we are given, we are also given free will to look at it however we wish. We can either build from it, or let it tear us down. I chose to let those things for which I first believed to be character flaws derived from an upbringing of constant instability and turmoil, to be some of my greater assets. My heightened sense of awareness, acquired from years of being on the look-out, is the very thing that allows me to see things in others most do not. It is why my characters in my novels are so very real, as I am able to describe the slightest nuances of their personalities. These are the things I notice in others. It is the reason why my words ring true when sharing my thoughts on the human condition. I lived in a constant state of raw awareness all my life. A life that could’ve been the passageway to my decline, or the portal that edified my understanding of others.

The other day I listened as Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayer described growing up with an alcoholic father, and how those years had trained her to become a very insightful lawyer. Her youth did not allow her to blissfully skim the surface of human behavior. Nor did mine. I could say much of my innocent youth was stolen from me. And although there would be truth to that belief. I have a higher belief that although much was taken, spiritually much was also given.

So as you look at your past, or perhaps at that which ails you in the present, contemplate what good can be derived. When you are spinning in circles, ask who it is that is keeping things in motion. You may be surprised. But do not be hard on yourself if you notice the answer is you. The fact that you had the courage to ask yourself this very insightful question means you have gripped tightly onto the reigns and soon things will come to a stop.  And if you can see no positive outcome from the past that may haunt you, then it may not be time yet for such discoveries.

Upon looking back upon my youngest years, a tear easily forms in my eye. Such difficult times. But I survived. And so will you. But survival is not a means to an end. We survive so that we can live. And we live to be full of life.

Sane

Look At It This Way

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It is my belief that we are all born into a certain set of challenges, unknown to us at the time; sometimes unknown to us during our entire lifetime. But mastering those challenges is the agreement to which we helped draft and consented before drawing our first breath.

And much like that of a team, certain souls agreed to help us along the way. They enter into our life in a positive or negative light; both to help us grow; both necessary for us to grow. So with this in mind, please do not punish yourself for feeling downtrodden at times. Do not feel as though you are weak because you doubt the unfolding of your life; because it feels a bit too overwhelming. Instead step back a bit. Look at the grandness of what is unfolding. Through the actions of your physical being your soul is fulfilling its agreement, its sacred spiritual contract. And even Jesus questioned his; as did Mohammad; as did Siddhartha; as did Abraham; as did all those whom we put so high upon the pedestal.

We look upon the great teachers, sages and mystics as being immortal. Due to such we often look down upon ourselves and our frail, doubtful human nature. And yet, they too wept. They too begged to be released from the mission given them. They too asked for guidance, help and understanding. Most of all, they too asked, why? Because it is within the questioning that spiritual maturation is found. One has to have the inner burning that spurs the question, if ever to receive an answer. The question does not show weakness as much as it shows the desire for growth. Of course the masters seemed to have a keen ability to latch onto the answers. Their power was in their faith. And thus they’re ascension into enlightenment played out a bit quicker than for most of us. But at its core, those who seek, are very much the same in that the road is riddled with things that make us question. That is the path. The potholes that make us stop are not there due to our lack of perfection, or our lack of greatness. They are there because without them we would have no need to stop, and ask why. And without the questions we do not evolve.

If there is one thing that separates the masters from those who seem to stay trapped in the cycle of only asking; it is that the masters accepted the answers and then moved forward.  They understood that this dimension provides not only the challenge but also the means by which to overcome the challenge. That is spiritual maturation in action.

You may think at first this means you are doomed to experience certain pains repeatedly. You are only doomed in that you will experience certain life experiences until you make the decision that will allow you to overcome and move beyond. So if you notice a cycle of hardship, please step back and instead of seeing it as an external assault, look at it and ask what it is you should be learning from the experience. Your soul is calling out for the experience as it knows it is necessary if ever the agreement is to be fulfilled.

So do not damn the challenges, and please do not damn yourself for having the challenge. In fact, please refrain from being so critical as to damn yourself at all. If one’s spiritual agreement is to overcome doubt, please look at those things that cause you to do so as opportunities given to finally have unwavering faith. And if your soul’s contract is to learn to claim the value of your voice, then please know you will be challenged in this regard. You may at first feel as if your voice has no value, no purpose and is inferior. That is the challenge you are here to overcome. Your soul is begging for you to see your own potential, so it will continue to give you opportunities that spotlight that part of yourself that needs work. So look at these challenges. See them for what they are. They are not signs of your weakness, they are merely opportunities to find your greatness.

Sane

The Delicate Orchid

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I took a long ride today, and thought about what it means to love another. What it is we give. What it is we hope to receive. It is within this very delicate dichotomy that I believe most unions fail. Things aren’t in alignment. Above and beyond all things, one must be in alignment; with themselves, with what surrounds them and with their partner.

There are few things worse than living with someone with whom you do not share the tender synchronicity of pure love. As loving unions go, finding a soul with whom your heart synchronizes is much like that of finding the Holy Grail. I don’t think anyone stands a chance of such a discovery unless they’ve first found it within themselves. It’s impossible to give to another what one has yet to discover and experience within themselves. One can’t give directions if the destination is unknown. One can’t give love if they don’t yet know what love is.

A friend said to me this morning that her husband wasn’t the romantic type. And yet she is. I thought about her statement afterward. It made me sad. With all the many nuances inherent to a relationship, I know I won’t proceed unless I have synchronicity. I do not want my mirror image. I want my perfect fit. How I romance my partner may very well be different from how he romances me. And yet, romance will be ever-present. I don’t want to be in a relationship if it means having to go without things I hold dear. No, I want a partner that knows these things about me, and me about him. And in our own special way, we delight in bringing a smile to the other.

I only want a union with another if it will enhance my life emotionally. I want to give love unconditionally, all the while knowing the same is being given to me. It’s this gentle give and take that’s so necessary. Like two people in a canoe, each with their own special task, but when done in unison the canoe moves with ease. Both important. Each giving to the other; each giving to the greater good of the relationship and back to themselves through the beautiful act of loving another. An exquisite circle of love. But it must be balanced and equal for it to flow. When not, things begin to spin.

There will always be trade-offs, of course. Such is true with life, such is true with relationships, such is true with all things. But I rather believe when with a partner, one should never give when they are only left with emotionally empty hands. We hand off our heart, our attention, our love and should get the same in return. If not, what is the point. My mission through writing is an act of total giving. Rare is anything given in return. But one’s life partner has a two-fold calling and purpose; to give; to receive. And when both do this to the fullest, the love is over-flowing. I heard an elderly man, who was quite ill, say that he wanted to be healed not to feel better, not to be relieved from the pain of his illness. He wanted to be healed only to have more time with his wife. I cried. The beauty in his statement touched me deeply.

To those who have this, I want to remind you to hold it dear. It is one of the greater gifts given from the Universe. It has the power to make all things better. It has the power to make you smile through your deepest tears. It has the power to make your heart expand to the point of breaking. And to those who have yet to experience such a love, I beg you not to settle for anything less, and most of all, do not give up. It is there. True it is rare; that’s how you know its value is substantial. And to those that think they might be holding within their hands the very orchid of their dreams, my words are to treat it well. It is unique and quite hard to find. Give to it your love, attention and care and you will always be left with hands full of the same.

Sane

Changing You

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To be loved for who we are – isn’t that the thing for which we all long; to be accepted in full. Unconditional love; the type taught by the sages and great teachers. When we love another in this way, we look into them, not at them.

Many of us have spent our lives shape-shifting to suit the needs of others; to cater to the opinions of those we felt were important. All the while, never stepping into and accepting our true nature as it wasn’t recognizable, even by us. During an interview recently, I made a statement that I will pass on to my children, their children and all those willing to listen: If others ask you to change. Change the company you keep. Don’t change you. I stand by that statement and always will.

Those who judge will do so regardless of anything we do to fall within the guidelines of what’s deemed acceptable at that moment. And every time we shift to their whims, a piece of our identity slips further away.

My daughter came to me one day, and asked if she could dye her hair violet. The dye was temporary, but the independence the act gave her will last forever. Of course, I knew there would be those who would look down upon her. Then again, such is always the case. It takes a wise soul to know the issue is with the viewer, not with the one being viewed. Never dear reader, mold to fit the whims of those who look upon you.  Because in time, you will start to see yourself through their eyes. You will question if you are good enough. And yet most who look down upon others do so only because they look down upon themselves; from somewhere deep within they question their worth. It is one of life’s greater truths. A truth we need to own in the same unshakable way we own the heart that beats within us. And by owning this deeper truth, we pass it on to our children; helping to stop the cycle of self-criticism and loathing.

For four weeks my young daughter walked boldly with her violet hair. I watched as others smiled at her. They saw in my daughter her vivacious spirit sprouting with life. I also watched those who offered her a raised critical eye. They saw in my daughter what they feared to be a wild child; one that should be kept tighter under wraps. I stood proudly by my daughter then, just as I do now that her chestnut hair is all one sees. I look into her, never at her. That’s what love does. I cherished every minute while I watched my daughter shun the dubious glares of others. It is a skill that will serve her well. Because she will never be a spirit that’s kept under wraps. I hope she has learned this from me. Or maybe she’s the one who’s taught me. I really can’t say.

Whatever your outer trappings, never change them for another. If you like to wear neon sneakers, walk with style. Or if you are content in khakis, wear them with confidence. But if like me, you stand out a bit in the crowd, then stand tall. I can’t change me. Although the action can be taken, to do so would be to deny who I am. And I rather like me. I’m an old soul that’s hopefully carrying out her last life. I have copper-red hair that flutters in the wind as I ride my Harley down the winding roads. But I am soft in ways that only few understand. My peaceful nature permeates the air around me. I look into people. And the precious few who stand beside me, seem to treasure these things about me.

So if you want to change you, dear readers – do so at your own discretion. Have fun with who you are. You are a magnificent being that is here with a purpose. And that purpose is not to please others.

Sane

Don’t Let Go

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In my own distinctive way, I try to send us into the weekend with a lighter thought. My day was most peculiar, and not one that lends itself easily to light thoughts but I’d like to leave us with this: Never give up hope.

Often hope seems like a web. We grab hold of it but quickly notice it amounts to nothing; it dissipates in our hand. We become discouraged because we can’t see its substance. Hope may appear empty and transparent. True, you can not see nor touch its power. Yet its power is substantial. Hope is the rope tossed to us by our higher self. Grab onto it. Hold it. It leads to the steady boat of belief and knowing. And on that boat is where you want to be.

As I look around, more people than not are consumed with some sort of worry, doubt, fear or insecurity. The mind is inundated with external words of gloom. But more than that our internal words are of exhaustion and frustration; as if all this life stuff is getting to be a bit too much; as if we’ll never come up for air. And when life presents us with the most perfect of gifts, we pull back; scared due to a lifetime of scars and pains. If we could tap into the minds of those gathered in a room, only one or two would be without concern. Instead most everyone is buried under something that could easily keep them up all night. I can’t say why life is this way; why it is we are so vulnerable to turbulence. And if there’s one thing the human mind repels against, it’s the state of vulnerability. I know I do.

Hope is not without purpose. It is not silliness or folly. Neither is it the scrapings from the bottom of the bowl. Hope is the first hold we take onto pulling ourselves toward a deeper connection with All That Is and our Authentic Self; those two being one in the same. So please don’t see it as merely fictional thoughts stemming from desperation. Although the desperation may be real, thoughts are the seedlings for all future occurrences. So hope for only that which you want to later experience. Do not look upon it as the last wisps of smoke from a fire that’s burned its final ember. It’s not that way. When you have hope – you have everything. You are on the right road. Keep going. Hope for love. Hope for the partner who will finally see your divine beauty and value. Hope for the better future. Hope for abundance and ultimate success. Hope to love yourself in full. Hope to discover your true value. Hope in the fruition of your dreams. It’s all there for the taking. Its reality is what prompted the desire. You merely have to get on the road to claiming it. Hope is that road.  Hope is the rope that fits into the hand more easily than unshakable knowing; it’s the baby steps that precede full belief.

I know at times it seems as though all hope is lost. And at times, it is. Hope is lost. But like all things lost, it is not gone. It’s merely turned away from our gaze. Find it. Find hope. Look and look until you see it. And once you do, latch on. Don’t let go of the rope. Pull yourself back onto the boat of knowing all you desire is yours. Because it is. Go in the direction of that which makes you smile and fills your heart. At times this means a complete life change. At times this means simply making a slight pivot. If I were to draw my final breath tonight, let my last words be: All that you want for yourself is yours for the taking. Know it. Feel it. Be it. Hope will get you there.

Sane

A Writer

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I leisurely drank a glass of wine while watching the sun settle behind the trees this evening. A moment I needed. And in some inexplicable way I feel the moment needed me. I often feel the energy of life longs for us as much as we long for it.

For those who wonder, the life of a writer is very much like that of a visionary and a builder. The words written from our passion are written on speculation; sentences built on the hope of a receptive audience. We have no guarantee. But if writing is within one’s molecular structure then writing is what they must do. They write even while watching the sun set gently in the sky. Never do they merely observe. Even within their mind, they write what they see. They feel with emotions that would suffocate most, but that’s what enables them to later put the feeling into words. As the moment held texture, something that can later be transcribed. Writers like me are the one’s that can articulate the passion, or lack thereof, behind a solitary kiss. We know when it is lacking. And we know when it holds the bitterness of ecstasy; the pain that says I must have this again. Leaves never simply fall to the ground when viewed by a writer. Instead they relinquish their hold, then allow the wind to take them away; fate says their time is done. Life is always there for us to transcribe. We are the messengers. We say all the things others hold inside. Most of all we dance upon your soul and enter the places you hold private from others.

I often held the romantic notion of being the prolific writer that sat for hours on end with a cognac and cigar. Both emitting an intoxicating aroma while I allowed the movies in my mind to manifest onto the page. Oddly, that isn’t the life I lead. And as some are curious, I will settle your curiosity by saying I almost never stop working. I begin work often before 5am and finish after everyone else has succumb to slumber. This is not an exaggeration. Good writing is never in need of exaggeration. Instead, it relies upon the simplicity found when poignantly exploiting the truth. And the truth is, rarely do I turn off my working mind.

Unlike my romantic notion of surviving on liquor while typing the whispered words of my muse; I’m the mother of two and a dog. The latter of which keeps me busy with her incessant need to go outside, merely to sniff around. But it’s the look in her eye and the energy she emits that causes me to crack to her demands. Her connection with God is pure. She is my balance. Most writers have an animal perched by their side. As we plunge deep into the psyche these gentle beasts often pull us back to the surface.

This is not a glamorous life unless there is glamour in touching the lives of many. For me, my success is measured by such. There are many writers like me; each with our own timbre, our own tone. But we have the same purpose. We build on speculation. Our vision won’t allow us to escape. Instead often the words of others are silenced to the voice of our muse. Instead of looking silently at our lover, we can’t help but to find words that capture the starburst that sits at the center of his sea blue eyes. And when watching our children smile, we can’t help but to see how their joy is the very presence of this ethereal thing we call God.

So to those who want to write, I say write. But know this, if writing is your purpose, if writing is within your being – it will forever beckon you. It is your breath. And in time, it becomes the beat of your heart. If you can do that, then write.

Sane

With My Umbrella

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It’s not how one behaves when standing at the base of the rainbow that defines who they are, its how they behave when the world comes raining down. Grace under fire is not a stance one finds easily. Nor is it a haphazard approach. It is the imprint of one’s inner nature – expressed.

For that reason, it’s those who surround me now, during this unique time, that will also surround me later in life. They know me. And I know them. I know what they’re like when pelted heavily with rain and I know what they’re like when reclining against the base of a rainbow. Anyone can smile after the storm.  But not everyone reveals grace under fire.

Last night someone mentioned my lack of expressed trepidation over a certain matter in my life. I have to imagine to some, my stolid ways seem as though I’m camouflaging something or oddly desensitized to my surroundings. It’s neither. It is however, my nature to run towards my center, my peace, when the going gets tough.

I’ve spent much of my life as the bird in the cage. The cage being the impervious walls behind which I always hid; walls that guarded me when young. It wasn’t until the last five years of my life that I forcefully opened the door within me, and flew free. But my ways are now ingrained. My nature is set. Even when standing on the figurative plank, on which I’ve stood many times in my life, I tend to look around and notice the cerulean waters. I notice the sun as it reflects upon the sea. I look to my center.

I have to imagine my son being diagnosed with cancer, and the suspended free-fall in which I lived afterward only added to my ingrained ways. My son required of me my peace. And I gave it amply. I may not be able to foretell the future, but if I believe in God then I must believe in faith – as its one of the conduits by which God’s energy flows.

Sometimes my emotions are like a kite in the wind, forcing me to surrender into myself and grow immensely quiet. There too are days when I long to dress like a clown, solely to make others wonder. Also arrive the days when I unplug from everything and dance like a gypsy with my daughter. I suppose those times may not seem like grace in action, upon first glance. But I feel differently. To me, those moments are manifestations of the human spirit trying to adjust to life in a world filled with the confluence of good and bad, success and failure, heart-break and love. It’s amazing we do as well as we do. We should all look upon ourselves with a great deal of compassion, considering all that bucks against us.

Most of all grace is seen in the little things. Grace is giving the last of what one has to someone in need. Grace is shifting from an easier path to one that’s rougher only so our friend doesn’t have to walk alone while there. Grace is not indifference. Grace is love. Its tapped into when we laugh. Its tapped into when we cry. Grace is that little bit of God we allow ourselves to reveal. I have to imagine it matters greatly to God who’ll be standing next to Him when under fire. Life is life. I don’t believe the road is always paved in gold. Or if it is, I’ve yet to make it to that part of the world. Instead, I feel we’re continually given new opportunities to expand and grow. Both tend to require we bust free from the old so we can step into the new; more often than not, it’s a painful, upheaval of an undertaking. One either has faith during it, or they run from the rain. How we behave is never beyond our control. Wherever my journey takes me, wherever the road goes, I hope to always hold the same stance with my umbrella in hand.

Sane

Holding the Crystal Ball

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At one time or another, most everyone has wanted to peer into a crystal ball; to have some way of seeing their future.

We want proof our choices were wise; that upon following the promptings of our heart, we were not met with heartache; that if allowed to view our life from the end, we’d see our face smiling back at us.

And in that moment, upon seeing all is well, we’d let our eyes linger. We’d watch the beautiful manifestations of our hopes. We’d see that the uncertain person shown to us in the mirror, is now living a life of certainty, the life of their dreams. I want this. I believe most of us do. Holding this magic orb in our hand we open a cautious eye, our stomach flips and we pray not to see our image standing on the end of the plank, or our face held in our hands as we weep with regret, failure or loss. We’d see that our life didn’t end in ruin. At some point the struggle ceased. Instead of walking against the conveyor belt of life, something prompted us to turn and go with the flow. Life got better.

I have to wonder if the only way we’ll ever get the images of our dreams to shine back upon us is if we first intricately create them in our mind. Then like a sculptor, we passionately believe in the images our mind’s eye holds and bring the clay to life. Instead of being fearful, we are bold.

Something within me says that’s how its meant to be; that the universe has no power beyond the power of our own beliefs. Our focus drives the outcome. And due to such it’s our job to decide the color and shape fate uses. Some matters in life we can not avoid. The larger catalysts doled our way are necessary to evolve. But if fate ensures that we will, before our time is done, create a particular slender vase, it also allows for us to choose the clay and final color we use.

A very dear soul recently gifted me a crystal ball. Most likely to show his mastery of cleverness as so often I use the lack of owning such an item as my escape from saying what the future holds. I have on more than one occasion stared at this strikingly beautiful object. I’ve looked at it and prayed. And every time I look into it, I see me. Just as I believe its meant to be. I may not decide everything, but I have the power to determine much of my fate. And that is what it reveals. What do you want to see, it silently asks of me.

I want to see my children standing next to me on the beach; together we watch the sun retire slowly into the water. I also want to see my life’s love by my side. I want to see that in some way, he understands the things within me I do not. I want to see a joyful family, breathing deep the excitement of life in full bloom. I want to see my books enjoyed by many. More so, I want to see my words working as a balm to heal, smile and help others get carried away. I want to see abundance in all areas of my life; abundance I chose to share with many. And then as I look deeper, I want to see a woman with long silver hair blowing in the wind as she stands on the edge of an expansive cliff overlooking the ocean. The soft smile of contentment settles onto her face as she leans into the wind. And the wind, returning her trust, doesn’t let her fall.

Sane

Written to and currently infatuated with the song Feels Like We Only Go Backwards by Tame Impala

Who Better?

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I’ve never fancied myself a cat person; even though I’ve been the keeper of many a fluffy feline in my time: Missy Kitty, Rajah, Skittles, Creek, Sunshine and Joe.

The label that would roll from my tongue without reflection would be that I’m a dog person. In fact, as I sit at my desk now, as the sun creeps steadily over the trees, there is a dog still curled upon my bed. I slept with my arm around her last night. It wasn’t always that way. But, over the last year or two, and since her brother’s passing, I guess we both just sort of gravitated toward the other when it came to wanting a bed partner. I have a friend who’s cat perches itself on top of him whenever he goes horizontal. I’ve opened my eyes numerous times during the night to find this silhouetted gargoyle kitty sitting high atop him, while staring down at me. She owns him, or so she believes. He’s accepted that, and so have I.

I have a framed, signed print that hangs in my entryway that reads: Love me, love my dog. It shows a man and a woman in bed, with a motley dog at their feet. This piece of art symbolizes one of the four cornerstones of loving me: Acceptance. And how I want to be loved is also how I love others. It’s also how I feel life is best approached, with acceptance. It’s a hard stance to try to control others. Its an equally hard stance to try to intricately control life.

Acceptance is one of the softer energies, I believe. When I allow others to be who they are it not only frees them, it frees me. Most importantly when we allow ourselves to express those things inherent to us, we expand and reveal the most beautiful angles and mechanics of our inner workings. We can never be that which we are not. We can try. I’ve tried. But it’s generally a mission doomed from the start. I don’t want to be the stand in for the movie of my life. I’m the lead. I am who I am. Once I stepped into the full character that is me, I realized it was the role for which I was best cast. Your role in life is important, and who better to play it than you.

Sometimes life challenges us when it comes to acceptance. Or at least it does me. But I can either buck against what appears to be a newly formed disheartening reality. Or I can accept the things I can not change, and change those in which I can. If I’ve learned anything it is to move in the direction of non-resistance thought and feeling. To move toward the softer energies of life. It is easier for me to accept the fact that I’m this forty-three year old writer who writes in this most peculiar way, knitting together the ideas and feelings of life; prompting my readers to stop and pause. And although cats seem to adore me and me them, I’m also a dog lover who likes to sit in the sun. I like to laugh at the absurdity so intrinsic to living. I also like to run my fingers through my children’s hair and skip dinner in lieu of a good bottle of wine. This is me, and I accept that. I’ve learned to look upon these things as the essential, beautiful strings that make up the fabric of me. I can change some. Some I can not. I’ve accepted that.

So as we head into the weekend, let us gravitate toward the softer energies. Let us not look at ourselves with a hard critical eye. Let us not look upon others with the thought of changing them. Let them wear their colorful fabric, and you do the same. You can only be you – so do it well, do it with confidence and do it with grace. If indeed all the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players – then put on the show of your life.

Sane