It is what it is

Someone said to me this morning, "Do something fun!"

In my weary sleepy head at 7:15 am, I could not think of anything fun. "Play your guitar!" Good idea! That is fun, well, at least for 30 minutes before my hands get tired. What else is fun for me? Reading and tea. Playing Pictionary or Boogle or other word games. Doing anything that doesn't feel painful in my body.

I don't take pain very well. I like writing, it's not painful. Sure at the moment I do feel a bit stagnated and not growing in this direction (although some would say I am growing in other directions ;)) And lack of growth can be painful too. Often I find myself "busy" with things I am not sure is the right thing to be busy with, as it is taking me away from the main attraction, i.e. re-invention.

There are tiny little cups of dirt and seedlings inside, slowly pushing their little green leaves out there for the world to see. Get sunlight little green friends, grow! I love Spring with all it's growth. So exciting! I forgot what I planted so it will be a bit of a mystery. I want to get more of these little cups of dirt / miniature green houses. They are so NOT messy. I like that, clean gardening is the best.

Gardening is hard work - but it is a good pain. I know it will "bear fruit". Maybe my attitude about my pain - physical and mental - needs a bit of a shift. I am learning, whether I like it or not. Maybe it is a risk but perhaps I can reach out to people and make my community grow, just like I let my garden grow.

Once upon a time, I did like jogging and playing frisbee and generally doing stuff outside. I miss that. I want to get back up to that point again. Can I do it? Do I have my mind set on it? Therein lies the problem. The wishy washyness of it all.

So, what is it that I have my mind set on? Woe is me? That's not cool. It is what it is, but I think I could have a different mind set. I have a lot to be grateful for. Disregard the scary nightmares of death and dismemberment. They come when there is fear. Banish fear now and forever.

I have to remind myself everyday, that I am worth it. What ever it is, I am in the right place at the right time and I have to believe that there is a plan for me, and I just have to bring myself to the table every day. Faith. I have nothing to fear, because I am handpicked and very precious.

On the way to thinking about what to write...

This morning already has been so interesting.

Another tossing & turning night, with my world's troubles still running around like a hamster in my head. Sleep-deprived and unmedicated, I wanted to rush rush rush through my mornings errands, just so I could have a free hour to write write write.

Then, I fell down some concrete stairs while carrying glass recyclables in a plastic box. I hit my mouth on a hard glass and the corner of the box. But while I was falling, all I could think about were my knees.

Surgery 17 years ago and having suffered many dizzying falls as a child and young adult -- once scraping my knees to the bone -- both knees still give me tricks and challenges. Now, that knee replacement will probably be moved up: to when I'm 55 instead of 60.

Spontaneous tears burst, like a child, I laid motionless on the floor not able to move. A kind and generous young lady talked to me in a soothing adult manner, and helped me get up. Things hurt: another friend got me a chair to sit down in and yet another, some water and ice.

Nothing broken no lasting damage (I hope) other than a reflection of the perspective I was afforded. And the fact that it gave me something amazing to write and reflect about for the rest of the day.

I am so grateful to you, my friends, and, also to all my intimate strangers -- who really understand the meaning of community and helping each other out.

It was just meant to be. Bruised lip and a few more scrapes, but this body knows that. The mind now remembers the forgiveness that life provides.

Character and experience - it is what separates the human with integrity and those without. What a wonderful world.

Best-laid plans...

Of Mice and Men. (John Steinbeck). Lenny and George. Why did we care about these two misshapen tools? Because they were poor? Their funny way of talking? Because they had nobody and simply had to look out for each other? Their loneliness? Dreams are great, but to have this constant danger and dagger along side, definitely didn’t do George no good. But it was out of love. Love of his friend more than love of his dream. So we can only console with George, because that was the way it was always going to end up. Lenny’s life or George’s. I think George knew that at the beginning.

Well, yes, my plans ‘Gang aft agley’ -- go often askew, according to Robert Burns. But to look at the present, be now and around in awareness, instead of this silly backward eye -- that is the blessing of the mouse. Man is always fearing and guessing. That ain’t no fun!

Am I having fun then in my present? Yeah I work hard but fun?? What would make this more fun? New interesting music? New words new habits? New characters? Last week I managed to avoid the news, so I didn’t make much of the current events. Me thinks that “real world journalism” isn’t for me. I like features and themes. I like science-y things that need some thought into them, not necessarily fast reporting. I am always looking for this thread that weaves in and out like on the Giant Loom of my life.

This week I am supposed to focus on characters. I like Doctor Who. So go with it. A clock stoppage -- giant loom story with Doctor Who pieces. OK. Idea! Go! Stay with it!

Have confidence in the Process

Some distillation today of whirling circling thoughts:

"Develop an approach" ==> A Process

"Inspiration is wonderful when it happens, but the writer must develop an approach for the rest of the time... The wait is simply too long."
-- Leonard Bernstein

"Capable" ==> Confident

"My touchstones are authenticity, playfulness and audacity, and by keeping these three key words at the forefront of my mind when sitting down to write, I find that I am capable of overcoming my fear of the blank page. "
-- Amy Palko of Lives Less Ordinary and Textual Tangents. Amy is writing her thesis paper on Stephen King and has spent quite some time studying him.

"Audacity / Appearance of Confidence" ==> Strategic mindset / Control / Discipline

" 'Audacity, always audacity'-soundest principle of strategy. In practicing medicine I learned that when you are most at loss is the time when you must appear confident. In law I had learned that, when your case seems hopeless, you must impress the jury with your relaxed certainty.' "
-- Jubal, character in A Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein

Brave / Faith / Uncommon ==>
Sticking to the process even when faced with negative feedback / Against Odds or Statistics / Customized or Unique

None but the Brave
-- Bruce Springsteen

"Faith is believing in something when common sense tells you not to." Miracle on 34th Street

"Common sense is anything but common." -- Unknown.

One day at a time

It truly is a wonderful life... the writing life... sure some days setbacks are all you get, struggling to write the next word, to come up with the next idea, editing, polishing, looking forward for all those rejection slips coming back... maybe some with a glint of keep going... but mostly its all you. This is my job, and it suits me right.

It's truly wonderful that I still have the power within me to change my life to change my vision. To actually feel good about it and go confidently into this world. Everything will work out and will come into place. This power, this inner strength if you will, is the single most greatest thing, the most valuable thing, that keeps one alive and healthy. Not a change in food, sleep, or exercise alone can do that. Inner strength. The power to change I contend has to come first and be the biggest proponent that drives all other change. Bottom-Up Management.

It's snowing here. I remember one bleak grey morning, not so long ago last March, when I started writing here. I remember feeling blessed for the snow, to be able to see it and enjoy it in the warmth of my apartment. The flakes may not be as fluffy and big, but they are creating a white blanket on the roof below outside my window, the hinterhaus of my neighbor's painting studio. I watched my cats watch the snow then, and I watch them again now. It's amazing, wonderful snow.

Sometimes I struggle to find something to write about. But it is really all around me and in me. I just have to start writing and its like a river that keeps flowing. The strength I need most days is to JUST START. Audacity!

Sometimes with the struggle comes fear. I know this now, and finally at last I can do something about it. START. The initial process of re-inventing myself is over. I've done it, I've succeeded. I found the inner strength, in my thoughts, in my prayers which create my success -- now I have to tap this stream of strength each day and START.

My START UP ROUTINE:
6.30 am AWAKE! Refreshed! Think what a great day! Energize!
7:15 am Yoga, Muscles, Aerobics, Balance physical work
8:00 am Shower and Energize again, mental work, warm up hands and ready set, and...
9:00 am START writing -- up to 2000 words per day...

My Maintenance ROUTINE:
12.30 Energize, tank up positive thoughts!
13.30 Business work
16.00 Small Re-energize, go for a walk?
17.00 Continue writing / work

My Shutdown ROUTINE:
19.30 lightly energize
20.30 wind-down: reading, relaxing, nothing too exciting, no computer work
10.30 Shutdown and think "what a good day! I did everything right! In my opinion!"


Much like a computer process (of course I am not a robot!). But there's lots of flexibility built into the process. One of the wonderful things about being a freelancer is to let go and allow your self to be flexible. The bigger the company is, the more drowned in processes and rules and hierarchy it is, and there is no creativity or flexibility or allowance for "out of process" custom work. The START UP, MAINTENANCE AND SHUTDOWN procedures are highly regulated, controlled and checked by the process engineers every morning, shift change, and night... (24 hour process control! Oh love I miss that!! NOT!).

But if I think of my mind and my body and my life as 24-hr Process Control, it's easier for me somehow as some of my inner strength is in that fundamental engineering knowledge. Weird, eh? Like the snow today, I feel like I have come full circle.

One day at a time. That's all the process engineer can do, is look at the system and process, one day at a time. Doing the best that he/she can with what they've got to work with. Whether or not the process actually produces the desired outputs in specification, well, for the moment, that is not his/her problem....The quality assurance engineer takes over.... whether the desired outputs are marketable or sale-able, someone else's job too... Other engineer's hats... other days... they all do the best they can with what they have at the end of the day... so all the other minutiae don't matter. In my opinion.

Why week: Day 2

Two-year olds are constantly asking Mom and Dad "why?" It's a fun game for a while, but when you start to run out of answers, it is annoying. In the end, the child is unsatisfied with "because I said so". It's an eternal question of course, but I seriously doubt a 2 yr. old can fully grasp the sense and concept of eternity or forever, as most normal adults can't either. Forever has been since they were born. That's eternity to them. Perhaps one should be glad they can vocalize and express curiosity. I guess that's why I appreciate people searching for a God, rather than those non-believers. They are just not a fun bunch!

Oh, but I digress. Why is that? I want to deliver as much information in a short period of time. But its not interesting is it? It could be down right boring. Anyway... needless words...must cut out needless words...

My Whys on Writing: (excuse the lyrics, it's early)

• I want to get past "hide[ing] 'neath the covers to study" my pain; I want to stop being afraid
  
• "show a little faith" and show myself I can form the writer that resides within and be brave
• I made a promise, long ago, circa 1985 -- "we'd swore we'd always remember no retreat baby no surrender" "to cut some place of our own" with who I am
• At the moment I feel like I am in some sort of limbo state. Not fully committed to anything. I believe strongly that once I "get over" this book written or the general "writing sickness" I have, I'll be able to connect to life again, and commit and feel married to the field what ever it is I have at that stage. I am not going to go totally away, but maybe that is still fear holding me back?
  

"None but the brave / No one baby but the brave / Those strong enough to save / Something from what they gave "

if you haven't heard this song, I recommend that you buy it off iTunes. Seriously, it's from Bruce Springsteen Essentials (yeah the one CD I don't have!!). "None but the Brave".

There are other whys, just a little disconnected in my mind from those above. I'll try to address them tomorrow or later in the week.

Well, here is my list of promises. A pessimist might find some of these a bit naive, but I don't think so. These promises although on the whole optimistic doesn't mean being "Pollyanna" about things. The Promise laid here must grounded in a world that includes today's realities. One must always be ready. (We'll discuss Springsteen's Promise in an essay somewhere.)

Anyway, I found this on the internet some 6 years ago, and I still keep carrying around. Now I got to really start trying to follow it. One day at a time, renew my commitment to this each day....

I Promise:

• To be so strong that nothing can disturb my peace of mind.
• To talk health, happiness and prosperity to every person I meet.
• To make all my friends feel that there is something in them.
• To look at the sunny side of everything and make my optimism come true.
• To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as I am about my own.
• To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future.
• To wear a cheerful countenance at all times and give every living creature I meet a smile.
• To give so much time to the improvement of myself that I have no time to critize others.
• To be too large to worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.

Go Gadget! Go!

what I meant to say was

I've been getting sick a lot lately... colds, headaches, high blood pressure, etc. and I can't help but wonder ... am I letting myself go? Is my non-improving health since I left a sign that I am still stressed about something? What, pray tell now?

It's not money... I know what I have and how long it'll last until I am forced to go and find a "real job" again... It's not my love life... that's going pretty well (although maybe I would like to take the next step sometime soon)... it's not my social networking capabilities... I am holding my own and know what I can and can't in this area... it's partly my office and working situation, yes... a bit unstable at the moment, but it will smooth out if I keep doing the right things...

is it my past? maybe. is it my future? most likely. What will become of me? How will I die? (happy, sad, demented, suddenly or slowly for example). The answer is "I don't know!" My current health is some indicator... but really should I worry about the future if I don't change anything today? Should I worry at all about something I have very little control over (my death) and just focus (not worry) on what I can control... my thoughts and actions today at this moment.

I am afraid that I won't succeed in my quest to be a "hopeful author". I am afraid that I will be forever a big round apple with stick arms and feet. I am afraid I won't be able to maintain this happiness I feel now, for much longer. It may disappear overnight. So many fears, no real solution to any of them.

I have to control my thoughts, and think more positively. So what to all of the above -- I can do it! As I've said before, this is the most MAJOR part of the process of re-inventing myself. Perhaps I can work on figuring out actionable items....

I am off the next few days traveling... so catch you back here next week!

Finding images

I write in my journal often - tidbits - observations - fears - things I want goals to achieve - bits of stories from my dreams. Susan asks me to find images in my journal writing. It's strange I never thought of it that way exactly. Maybe that's why I always have this difficulty between showing the reader something rather than telling them something.

Looking at my old journals, its mostly filled with words intended to jog my memory about an image or scene. Is that fundamentally different, I don't know. I will try harder to pull together the actual image and draw it out - expand the idea of the jogging mnemonic - develop the craft that way.

I think I need to be more clear in my descriptions when I am writing to be read much later (that someone else might still be me - I don't think I would remember I wrote this unless I knew it was in my possession all these years). I suspect if my parents found a lesser known piece of my writing somewhere hidden under a box in the attic, I wouldn't realize it was me. Hey that happened already -- a Father's Day card when I was twenty. I don't remember writing it. I must have -- my picture is there. How narcissistic of me. Oh well.

More recent example, I have something written from 9th of June 2005. "The Fork Example". I have no idea what it means now. However, the same day I visited the International Red Cross Museum - so it might have to do something with that. For today's exercise, I'd like to expand on the image of postcards used during WW's :

Black and white this is all I can give you today is 85 cents
to relieve your anxiety your worry if I am alright
hold it, its 3 x 5 light in your hands, preserve it, put a magnet on it
read and re-read it
while you count on your brown and orange rosary
sitting on a garden stool pausing between weeding the rows and rows of tomatoes and zucchini
pull it out of your overalls and pray for me
while you wait for the water to boil
hope for peace my symbol of good luck coming from where ever I am
this card one of many
this multitudinous card of reproduced pictures and stamp
delivery all for 85 cents
made personal by my words my comment
wish I was there
while you are getting ready for bed, brushing your hair sitting on the soft well-worn orange ottoman we got when we moved away for the first time
hold it like a distinctive protective sign
knowing that I've dispatched all that I can
this sign of life.

-- Did you see the image of a woman sitting, spent and sweating from gardening, wearing a flowery pink lined cotton smock with green gloves and a spade next to her? The garden stool cracked and uneven on the ground? The rosary in one ungloved hand - the care-worn card in her pocket and she pulls it out with the same hand holding the rosary? --


No - I definitely need to be economical yet more descriptive at the same time. It's tough!

Fearless living

It’s been well said that cowards die many times before their deaths (originally from Shakespeare, Julius Caesar (II, ii, 32-37)). Julius Caesar did not fear death on the Ides of March.

I want to be valiant, I want to be fearless. I wish and pray for these things everyday. I do not fear my physical death, it is this other metaphorical death that I am worried about. Am I really alive here, writing?? I think the answer's yes.

I think it was a brave thing to do, to quit my job and change careers from a moderate stage in my previous career. But some days are worse than others. I do not have a death wish, so does that automatically make me a coward or not? What is the source of the cowardly death?

"everything dies baby that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back"
--Bruce Springsteen, Atlantic City

So if we take these two quotes together, does that mean cowards have another chance to come back and fight again, to try to be valiant the next round?

Yes, but they have to metaphorically die first, for their initial cowardice. Love, dreams, ambitions can die only due to not enough courage/faith. Truth is, that is all it takes - courage (i.e. to do the hard work) and faith, not money or a big fancy car (unless that is your dream or ambition I guess), house or novel technology.

Maybe someday, it comes back. How pray tell? Motivation, inspiration, imagination, or sheer will? I like imagination, I have a vivid one... :-)

adrenaline

Last Saturday we went to an amusement park. Rollercoasters, water rides and very expensive junk food was the fare. It was a bit rainy but not painfully so. We didn't have that many long queues to stand in, I think our longest was perhaps 35 minutes.

What amazes me is the adrenaline and fear I felt on going on one of these blockbuster rides, designed to emulate what it might be like to be a race car driver. The highest drop was of 73 meters, and the fastest speed was about 130 km/hour. Yeah. My feet didn't touch the bottom of the carriage, and at many points on going from fast up to fast down, my bottom was no longer touching the seat. I was weightless for a few milliseconds, which was a calming and soothing feeling compared to the rush of going down and speeding around the corners.

Why do we subject ourselves ON PURPOSE to fear and adrenaline? I think it is to help train us in real life when we are in stressful situations. Heck, if you can handle up to 4-5 G and travel a little over a kilometer in less than 90 seconds, you can handle big-wig meetings and other situations with a calm reserve.

Fear is good sometimes!

Changing Gears

I have forgotten how difficult it is to change gears when working on multiple projects simultaneously. The shift in thought seems enormous and sometimes overwhelming.

It seems worse when your projects are starting pretty much from scratch and you have to divide your time between them. Time is a limited resource. Priorities must be made. We have choices everyday, which ideally should align with our core values.

As a strong proponent of individualism and freedom of choice with profound understanding of the consequences of actions, I have a fun time juggling my priorities. It all can be boiled down to the pursuit of happiness, of finding and completing fulfilling work and tasks (not just doing chores), or just having the Snoopy-like feeling at the end of each day "It was a good day, I did every thing right, in my opinion." So I take my to-do lists in stride. If I can say that at the end of the day, the closer I am to fine.

Trade-offs are inevitable, aren't they? One can choose to do one task, in negligence of others, and of course, pay the price later. What happens when things are out of your control? External decisions, accidents, and learning about rules that you had no participation in creating, affect your own choices. Flexibility and adaptability, and hence the need to change gears, are required coping strategies in the ultimate struggle of getting things done, or getting what you want out of life. Long-term thinking and alignment with your core values feel better than short-term thinking and "selling out", in my opinion. It seems every time we are faced with a choice, it really should not be so agonizing if we stay true to ourselves.

Where (a specific place I mean) do I often change gears? Are there specific triggers? Does my anxiety go up or down? How can I control how I feel about where, when, how, and why I change gears? What is my motivations and how can I reduce anxiety or fear as a negative motivator? This is interesting pre-work, requiring "tough love".

I leave you today with some lyrics, to give you a sense of where I am today, it's the best I can do for now (red added for emphasis):


"Well I got thrown out of work on the Kokomo
Don't ask me what I'm doing, I don't know
I hope he wasn't joking when he wrote me that letter
Things can't get any worse, they got to get better

Well I'm a little down under, but I'm feeling O.K.
I got a little lost along the way

I'm just around the corner to the light of day
Just around the corner to the light of day"


- Bruce Springsteen, Light of Day

The Woman with Half a Smile: Part 2

Coming to Terms with It

After a full day of feeling sorry for herself alone and stewing in her thoughts, the woman with half a smile picked up the phone and made a mental list of who she should call and in what order. She decided to call her sister-in-law first, but no one was home. She left a message, trying to code it a bit, so that if the kids were there listening when the answering machine sputtered out her voice, they wouldn't worry about Aunt Tiny being sick. She remembered only then her brother was away on business. Just as well, she thought, as her sister-in-law was better at comforting her now, and she'll know how to react, she's a PA.

Trying her best not to over-exert her healthy half of a smile, Aunt Tiny laid her head back down on the couch and thought about her brother's family and the happy times they shared. Her nephew would be seven years old soon. She made another mental note to find out exactly when her nephew's birthday was, as her mind seemed to be flooded with other junk at the moment. To think back when he was a baby, how she savored the smell, the tender touch, the weight of him in her arms as she sung a lullaby to him in the nursery rocking chair. Amazing how in seven years, the bundle of love has grown to develop dreams and wishes and fears of his own, fluidly and without strain. From the outside, his fears may seem temporary and ever changing as the sculpting of a fairly new river bed, downpouring from a fresh source. These childhood fears, if strained and not seen with love, can become fixations and have a lasting permanency, she thought. He'll be alright, she brightened, he will not be like me.

She then tried to reach her good friend who lived an hour away. Stuck at home with a 6 month old baby, her friend was there for her and did all the talking and soothing. There was nothing else anybody could do. She only had to do what the good doctors said, and everything will resolve on its own. There were homeopaths and other kinds of therapists, her friend let her know if she wanted to go and believe in them, they could help her. Trust and belief, in the end that's what it is all about, she thought, half unblinking and staring out the window as she rehashed what had happened -- all of it -- all of the past 9 months to her friend. How she lost her trust in her work and boss, and could only have so many commitments. She chose herself, her health, and her only love, over those "mad people". Her friend agreed, having met the boss once or twice, that she had her priorities straight.

Relieved and still twiddling with the plastic bubble -- the foggy and sticky eye patch -- encompassing what seemed like the entire left half of her small face, she went over to hug her boyfriend. He was cleaning and tidying up something what she couldn't see very well. "What was that for?" he asked. "For just being here," she beamed. I am so blessed, she thought, with a warm pink glow overtaking her. "It's time for us to go to the clinic get your eye checked again, I want to make sure you know how to go on your own" he replied calmly, his large gray, cerulean eyes smiling. There never was such a more beautiful and nameless color, she thought.

After returning home from the hospital for the second time, she finally reached her sister-in-law. Her sister-in-law confirmed everything she heard, and also told her how not uncommon it was, that her mother had it too recently. Her story told yet again, the woman with half a smile felt tired from another long day it seemed.

The most curious thing was something her sister-in-law said, after she had told her that the doctor gave her a 100% sick leave note for one whole week. "Yes, that's not a bad idea. You may be feeling a bit self-conscious, and have to come to terms with it..." Self-conscious she was, she felt that on the bus back from the hospital, everyone was staring at her, wondering what contagion was under that horrible putrid-looking eye patch. But come to terms? What?

After almost a half day of not having self-pitying feelings, the woman did not understand why she had to come to terms with it, but was curious anyway. They told her it shouldn't be permanent, and perhaps some discomfort will come with doing normal daily things like eating, looking at the computer or TV. She was unbelievably grateful for not having to go to work and deal with the workload and clients, but what would she do with herself? She planned getting her hair colored and cut with her wonderfully gay hairdresser, a nice total body massage, going to the gym, sleeping lots, playing with her two cats. Surely that was enough to keep her mind off of it and not have to deal with the consequences of having half your face paralyzed?

Next: Coping -- On and Off Sick Leave

The Woman with Half a Smile: Part 1

The Woman with Half a Smile

She looked in the mirror Saturday morning. It could not be, she could not comprehend what she was seeing. Her left eye was very red, although she felt she was well rested from the night before, and more or less recovered from this week's stress from her hectic agency job and her insane superiors. Yesterday, her left eye was bothering her quite a lot, and she had to hold it closed quite often, she recalled, could it be related? Her passing and dismissing thoughts she had yesterday about the state of her health ran through her mind. It could be an allergy, or the fact she had a lot of detailed computer work lately and she was out late the night before. She was too young for it to be anything else, to be anything serious, she thought.

Now on a wonderful bright warm Saturday morning, with the first signs of spring coming, she wondered out loud, "Am I imagining this, or am I still asleep?" She called over her boyfriend to come bear witness in the bathroom with her. He knew she was stressed and he was worried about how she could have coped through this week, quitting her job and dealing with the consequences. However, he was less likely to see things that were not really there and could be objective.

She tried to blink. No response in the left eye. She tried to smile. No response in her left cheek, her left side of her mouth. Her nose was only running on the left side. She had a slight cold, but nothing serious, not worth staying in bed. Her left ear and neck was throbbing slightly, along with a mild headache. What's happening to me? she thought and suppressed a whine in her throat, she didn't want to show her boyfriend her fears for the worst. Her boyfriend said as calmly as he could, "We should go to the hospital you should go see a doctor".

After 6 hours in the emergency room, and another hour at the eye hospital, being poked, prodded, reflex tested, blood pressure monitored, bright lights shined in her eyes, the agitated woman had her diagnosis: idiopathic facial paralysis, a.k.a. Bell's Palsy. She wanted to go home, she wanted to sleep. Although the worst was over, the eye patch made it difficult, her left side of her face made it difficult. Angry that nobody could fix her, she fussed and tossed all night. Why is this happening to me? she stewed. I can't work like this, I can't live like this for the next three months, she worried. The prognosis was unknown at the moment, and that scared her too. The doctors said could be two weeks, it could be three months, it could be a year.

Tomorrow: Coming to terms with it....

Let this day be the last

Today was my last day of work. Woo hoo! Total commitment, that's what it takes!

Where did it all start? It was at The Spectrum in Philadelphia, Tunnel of Love Express Tour March 8th, 1988. Twenty years ago.

March 1988 is a time point that I want to return to mentally with the ideal time machine, i.e. with the maturity and lessons learned I have today. I could go back to that concert in my head, and recapture what I think I lost after a really bad experience later that same year, which has led me to experience great darkness since. I now know that I no longer have to be a victim of circumstance and can create my own success.

I can't believe I fought with myself for the past 20 years (and my parents and everyone else that would have liked to get close to me). I went against my own dreams -- paralyzed by my own fears -- and did only what was expected of me.

NO MORE!! Today was my last day of sorrows at my very stressy agency job, and all this darkness that has shrouded me for 20 years will pass....I know it and I can feel it, the thunder underneath my feet!!!

Having just turned 35 last November, I am ready for that river of joy and happiness, and am totally committed to this new life. And I know that I can't get there by myself now! I am so glad for my friends, my partner, my family, for GreasyLake, and of course, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band!!!

More real process stuff later. It's time to celebrate, and have a good time...

Everyday - Every Morning

Inner peace is another key to re-invention. One has to temporarily turn off that chatter box of internal critic, as at this fragile moment, he/she is too harsh to deal with. The duality is needed though, to deal with the outside world. This critic can instead, face those naysayers and protect the fragile budding writer / re-inventor, who can develop the inner song and peace that is needed for the work ahead. Send that critic out to work for you, instead of against you!

Calm, poised, confident. No fear, and no worries. That is the re-inventor, the vision one needs to have of one's self before working.

When every bone, every nerve ending, every cell in your body tells you, that you are on the right path, making the right decision, without shame.

I will never be the same.