Ahhhhh

This night is a real snoozer.

For the past several months I've been on this 'write your book' kick. Yeah, my book. The one which will astound the masses and make them drip with envy.

The book would start out as a 'sleeper best seller'. Word of mouth over and over again until that one day when I would get 'the' call. The call almost every obscure writer could only ever dream of. I can see it now. The phone rings and yes, on the other end are the producers of Oprah. How did they find me I wonder? My number is unlisted. But there they are asking if I would grace the stage with the mighty Ms. Winfrey because my book is the latest addition to her 'Book Club".

Having owned my own bookstore I can tell you that the second Oprah decides its good, the sales EXPLODE. There is really is no other way of saying it. They EXPLODE. Check out the best seller list for the past few years. You'll understand.

I've spent much of the afternoon reading everything I have written thus far for 'my book'. I fell asleep a couple of times. Read more and got confused more often than not. Tried to make sense of 'where the hell was I going with THAT?" Among a lot of little annoyances which left me feeling like my words would cause narcoleptic episodes for anyone who would read them.

I think I managed to salvage perhaps only one page.

You might recall the movie "Funny Farm" starring Chevy Chase. He is a journalist who moves to Vermont (I believe it was shot in Woodstock, VT) to write his crime thriller. On the night of their anniversary he presents his work to his wife so that she can have the honor of reading the first draft. That is her present. Once she is finished, the camera pans to her and she begins to cry hysterically because the book is SOOOOO bad. My favorite line is when she says "And here, you have a flash sideways!!". That always cracks me up.

So, unless this work is to be chosen to put young children to sleep I think it best to start from scratch. I owe it to the reader to put out the best work I can.

And yes, when the phone does ring...I am hoping it will be someone other than my mother.

Oscar's in the House

Imagination.

The Academy Awards are watched by millions of people all over the global. What is it about this very long and sometimes very boring production that keeps us glued to our TVs?

It certainly doesn't have the excitement of the Super Bowl. It pales in comparison to the World Series, yet year after year we tune in.

This is a show that honors creativity at every level. Those who are a part of this industry are living proof that the creative spirit lives within each one of us and to never give up our dreams; whatever they may be. They nurture the inner child and those of us who nurture our inner child know that without it we would be less than what we can be.

Its a testament to the fact that one can truly live their passion. How many of us can truly say we are living our passion? Each one of us yearn for that moment in our lives when we can live how our souls truly want us to live. The most difficult part is figuring out what that is. I believe it is that which makes us smile and lose track of time. To be able to say "wow. where did the time go? I want more." can seem almost unrealistic but absolutely attainable.

The problem is that most of us are striving for security and as a result fore go those things we deem frivolous. Yet the frivolous is what keeps us going.

Those of you who have been following this blog since the beginning and those of you who know me personally know by now that no matter what we think is secure, it is just a moment away from disappearing. What we have in the end is who we are and that is the only thing we are assured of.

Only when the superfluous wrappings are removed from our lives can we really begin to understand that which makes us whole. It allows us to explore our own imagination for those things that make us truly smile.

Dangerous Beauty

Mid February and once again Mother Nature has graciously rewarded this region with a display of her special talents. Maybe to ensure that the city folk make their way north to spend their hard earned dollars on fun and frivolity.

Country roads can be beautiful no matter what the season but there is something surreal about driving those roads at night when they are blanketed with snow.

How can something so beautiful be so treacherous?

My final drives to and from wally world are fast becoming a white knuckle experience. There are two conditions under which I have always loathe driving.

1. At night
2. In a torrential downpour.

I have added a 3rd. Snow storms...at night.

Not the type of storm where the snow glides gracefully to the ground, but where the clusters of flakes packed fist tight plummet so fast that your stomach decides to take a ride of its own in the opposite direction.

For whatever reason and I'm sure there is a logical one, driving into a snow storm feels as though you have pushed an imaginary hyperspace button on the dashboard. Each snow flake reflects the headlights making it seem as though you are careening through space at a nauseating speed. No one in their right mind would be out in such a storm, but given that some must, the need to get somewhere fast is second only to getting there at all.

The heavy snow masked all my landmarks causing me, on multiple occasions, to take an unknown road half a mile or more before realizing my mistake. For great distances there are no guard rails to protect you from the river. Taking a turn too fast will land you where you'd be lucky to be found a few days later. Cell service is non existent so crawling your way back home is the only option for arriving without incident.

The drive last night was an experience in my ability to keep my heart from pounding out of my chest. Each winter the news will report a harrowing story which began with a wrong turn on a similar night. People getting lost and venturing out unprepared looking for help only to be found dead a few steps from rescue. How can that happen?

Panic. When heart gripping panic sets in rational thinking disappears. I was lost in my own backyard and I panicked. By the 3rd wrong turn, I had visions of settling off road for the night without the ability to tell anyone where I was and wondering whether I had a blanket in my car and thanking God that I had the foresight to fill my gas tank.

I could only imagine that an aerial view would show me driving in circles just 6 miles from my home. It took some time to get my breathing under control so that I could figure out which fork it was where I went left instead of right. Or maybe it was right instead of left? Or perhaps I was too focused on following the tracks in the unplowed road made by a truck who occupant knew exactly where he was going.

Following blindly can lead to trouble.

The snow compromised my sense of judgement erasing all I knew to be stable and true causing a number of unwelcome detours in my journey home.

I'm not anxious to drive under those conditions again but know that I will have to many times and somewhere within I know I may never get it right.

Facebook.

Fast becoming the bane of my existence. My friends have been hounding me to join for months now and I've finally given in.

I'm hooked.

I am such a PC junkie that all I needed was another site to get caught up in. They promised it would be great networking device but I love the silly stuff. I'm still exploring the site and with each new find I get as excited as a kid on Christmas day. OK. My standards for excitement are low but then I am 48. There are loads of silly content. Its like having permission to act 12 again. But I'm not sure I ever stopped.

The problem is I can get so caught up in this that I will push away everything else that needs to be done, like write....read (have 3 books in from Amazon. http://www.amazon.com/)

I will log off now and join the rest of the world....right after I check the market.....or...maybe I shouldn't?

Oh Well..Next Please

I resigned from wally world yesterday. Yes, the fortune 500 company I referred in a previous post. Wall-Mart. In a place where most people have no regard and just don't show up anymore, I took the professional way out and handed in a letter of resignation. 30 years on Wall Street taught me YOU DON'T BURN BRIDGES....EVER.

The letter was not full of honey coated lip service. It was a direct and expressed opinion of what I thought was wrong with this company as an employer. I might forward the letter to the regional manager and possibly the CEO. This has nothing to do with the people I have been fortunate enough to work with, most of them are terrific and work harder than anyone I've ever known for far less reward.

The company is run by bean counters who have zero clue on what makes their work force strong or weak. They are about everything BUT that. So the final score is:

Consumer: 100
Employee: 0. A big fat round zero.

When I first started, I felt that in five months I would know whether or not this was a company I would want to grow with. My five months were up and I decided:

Niete.

Now, it wasn't the job I didn't like. In fact I love my job, what I don't love is the company itself. I approached this as I approach any new endeavor; with high hopes, excitement and high expectations. Therein lies the problem.

The excitement was there..after all, this was something completely new to me. The high hopes were there...I hoped it would be something I'd want to grow into in the long run but the expectations compelled me to step back and reassess. The company itself is the problem.

It is bad enough when you work with people who are mediocre and uncaring of what they are hired to do, but I constantly saw the people in the wrong jobs. When you give your all and you watch others skate by with minimal attention to what they do it gets increasingly frustrating. My mantra of 'what is my time worth' became a broken record in my own head. I decided my time was worth much more than anything this company could give me in return. So I did what I felt was necessary. I quit.

I come from a world where mediocrity does not pay off. You are rewarded for what you bring to the table. To find myself in a company where everyone gets treated exactly the same no matter how they function in their position made me aware that all the world does not function equally. So, instead of beating my head against the proverbial wall...I quit.

I'm not a quitter. Never have been but at this age you begin to realize that life is too short to be miserable. Let that be a lesson to younger readers. Nothing is worth you being miserable.

All is not lost though. This was a valuable lesson in what makes me tic as a productive individual. I love chaos. I love people, I love putting out 'fires'. I'm good at that. What I am not good at is waiting for my break, or waiting for my dinner hour or waiting to go home.

Working for this company is like working for the government. If you want a somewhat secure and steady paycheck with the promise of a possible 10c per hour increase 'next year' than this is the place for you. It is not the place for me. I'd rather fall on my sword and make mistakes than take the easy way out.

I've always felt that if I'm going to commit 1000% to anything I do, I'd rather do it for myself. So that is what I will do. The mind is once again swirling with my next step. I know now that is must be done and had I not worked for this company during its most hectic and chaotic time of the year, I would have never come to this conclusion. I would never have had the guts to take this next step.

So for that I am grateful. Everything is a learning experience whether you know it or not. Sometimes the lesson comes well after the event and only in retrospect can we see it. So, blinders are off, lesson is learned and thus begins act II.

Rehashing the Past

Somehow I've lost sight of what I wanted to accomplish with this blog. I'm not sure I had anything in mind at the time I started it other than to hone up on my writing skills.

In the beginning I think I wrote more from the heart than what ultimately became writing about inconsequential nonsense. There were days that I wrote from an introspective view point which might have seemed a little too heavy for some so I began adding a little humor at the ridiculousness of the mundane.

When you write for a audience larger than yourself you begin to take writing in an entirely different direction and when that happens you lose part of yourself.

I lost it.

I lost my focus on what was important to me. If someone found value in anything I'd written I was pleased. Not whether they thought I could construct a piece from an errant thought but whether or not something I had to say hit a nerve.

Finding out what you are good at takes patience. I'm not a very patient person. Most of the time those things that are important to me made me wonder if they were important to anyone else. Changes in life, those I asked for brought about a perspective I wasn't aware I had nor a perspective I was ready for.

Last night a friend challenged me to write from the heart. Write about my true fears, my true expectations, my true challenges. Instead of reporting the news, write about living it.

"How does it feel to have lost your job?" he said. "How do you REALLY feel about it? Are you angry? Are you sad? How does it FEEL to lose your identity? How does it feel to earn about less than 1% of what you are used to?"

I never thought any of it had value and who the hell wants to hear me gripe about it anyway? But he made me realize that what I'd gone through last year has affected many people. Those that can relate to the turmoil life changes can bring into a pleasant existence would know that they are not alone in the struggle. And boy its been a struggle. Redefining who you are is never easy. If I were a different personality I'd be deep into anything that would make me forget.

How did I feel about losing my job?

Angry. Disgusted. Scared shitless.

Despite the fact that in my heart I was long ready to leave Wall Street, when the reality hit it overturned my world. That Friday night, after we found out the firm was history I was numb with my only intention of getting even more numb. My apartment was overrun by boxes because I was moving that next Monday so one of my co-workers and I decided to just get drunk. Who decides that? Drunk is what happens when you've had more than a couple but this was planned. Armed with 3 bottles of wine I went to her apartment. Armed with her own bottles we preceded to make sense of it all. It wasn't a huge surprise, we'd known for over a year that this outcome was a possibility.

Well into our 4th bottle nothing made sense anymore. It was confusing. The rug had been pulled and even though deep inside I knew it was for the better, I still wanted to scream. I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready by a long shot. I remember the song "Run" playing and at that moment I completely lost all reserve I ever had. I broke down and I broke down hard. I sat on the floor feeling as though someone had ripped out my guts and was hanging them over my head saying "OK. Now you got want you wanted. How does THAT feel?"

It was crushing. It was excruciating. As I sat on the floor rocking, the dam that held back my fears broke. It didn't crack, it imploded. I cried so hard I couldn't even breathe and all that could come out of my mouth was "I'm Sorry!" I felt as though I was making a colossal fool of myself. All she could say was "Thank God you're crying. It shows you're human after all."

Yeah, I'm human I don't think I was ever more human than that night. I barely remember getting home. Walked out the door, got in a taxi and somehow found myself in my bed curled up like an infant desperately wanting someone to tell me it would be OK in the end.

The numbness stayed for a long time. I reconstructed the dam and even now as I try to figure out where this is all leading I can't help thinking that if I take my finger out of this fragile dam there really will be no turning back.

Stepping Out

I believe in building your own future by believing in yourself.

It lies in your hands and in your hands only.

There are few who are happy with the status quo but there are many who believe their only value is the value others put on us. It take a true understanding of who we really are to buck that trend.

If you ever want to feel like just a cog in the wheel of life, then live your life according to the rules which make you part of the rank and file. Whether it be joining the armed forces or working for an enormous organization where you don't stand out or you can't express your individuality if that is what truly makes you get up in the morning then great. But, if you want to be true to yourself then you must step out of the tried and true and take risks.

Few are comfortable with risk. Fewer still take them.

For me, risk is what makes life worth living. Sure comforts can't be guaranteed, but if taken with heart and soul, there is truly no stopping us.

Take that risk. Reach beyond the comfort zone and let life lead to to places you can only dream about.

Dear Phil

Ground hog day is upon us and low and behold we can look forward to six more weeks of winter.

Oh Joy.

Now when you live in northern New England there are two things that are a given.

1. It gets really cold

2. We get snow

I love it when I'm talking to someone wearing a T-shirt, light jacket in the middle of the winter and they say..."Oh my God, it is soooo cold out!!'

No. Really? I wonder why?

Lets have a looksy at the calendar shall we?

Yup...there it is. February. And oh yeah...we are in Vermont. Its cold? Really? What are the odds?

Sort of like being in the Keys during August and being surprised to find it is humid.

Do people forget WHERE they are living? Do they wake up one morning and discover that where they are is not where they thought they were? I'm in Vermont? No wonder its cold. I must have taken a wrong turn in Georgia.

So back to Phil, the groundhog and not the TV Psychologist.

Thank you Phil for giving me the heads up that I should not be looking forward to putting the fleece away anytime soon.

Snow Snow go Away

Yep. Its a whopper. The storm I mean.

I got up this morning, took one look out the window and crawled back under the covers. I was going nowhere for a long time.

Then the earthquake woke me up. At least it sounded like one.

My roof is made of out this really cool material which is installed like slate tiles. The beauty of this is that the roof doesn't need to be shoveled because the material allows the snow to just....slide off.

Unfortunately, it doesn't slide off as its snowing. No. It will accumulate like a most roofs and when the weight increases OR, the temperature warms up a little....the snow will come crashing down and I mean CRASHING.

The first time it happened I thought the house was caving in. It was so loud that I could only imagine what an avalanche would sound like. My dog makes a beeline to hide under whatever.

Try having THAT wake you up out of a dead sleep.

It will snow for the better part of the evening and possibly into tomorrow. Joy.

It will take me 15 minutes to unearth my car. This time I will do it with gloves on. You'd think I'd have learned by now.

So. It is cold though not as cold as it was. Snow is beautiful but can be annoying to deal with.

I'm looking forward to the 2nd to see what the groundhog says. If is 6 weeks of winter...is that the good or the bad prediction?

Well, that is it for the weather report. And now back to you....

This and That

So much for posting everyday.

I do write, but working on something else so sometimes this gets put aside.

We're about to get another whopper of a storm. Damn. Makes it impossible to do anything that requires driving.

I have a class tomorrow morning and besides fighting a cold, my guess is that I will not be attending. My lax-ness appalls me. The last time the roads were bad it took me 1:15 to get to school. A ride that typically takes 35 minutes.

As for work...that's 43 miles away. It'll take me 2 hours of hazardous travel time. Me thinks a call out is in order. The company has an incredibly detailed corp number to call for absences and 'tardies'. Now there is a word I bet you haven't seen in a LONG time.

Tardy.

Who says that anymore? Once you get through, you have to work your way through a complex menu of options requiring the pressing of 1 or 2 depending on your circumstances.(If anyone has ever wondered what became of the moviefone guy....I have my suspicions). By the time you've finished, you've forgotten why you called and are well on your way to being over whatever ailed you in the first place. I think its a ploy.

What happened to the days when you called in and talked to a human?

Technology is wonderful. I am addicted to my computer and my cell. I misplaced my cell for a couple of hours one day and had an anxiety attack.

I recently switched Internet services from DSL (HORRIBLE) to cable which I much prefer. When asked by the phone company why I was switching the words "because it sucks" were just about to be released into the atmosphere. As it were I merely said "because I am not happy with the service." After all, I am foremost a lady.

Them: "Is there anything we can do to make it better?"

Me: "Yes. Cancel my service so I can switch to cable."

I asked for it to be terminated at month end (giving me time to receive my cable modem and connect) and instead, unbeknownst to me, they terminated me that evening. The next day I had NO service. I didn't know when I was to receive my modem so I contemplated going to the local bookstore for wireless access. How could I keep up on the (g)ripping entertain news regarding the newest baby bump sightings? How could I find out how badly my investment account was doing? How could I Ipost my blog entry? And, most importantly, how could I read my EMAILS!!

As it turned out the modem arrived the next day (they knew) and I had it installed within the hour.

Whoa. That was close.

I recently found a journal I was keeping in 1998. There was an entry regarding my newly found email capabilities. The entry was about something that I had taken part in and was so psyched I was off to email the news to all my friends who had email at the time. And I did. I sent an email to all four of them.

Times have changed. I now have 12 friends on email. (kidding)

Cold Cold Go Away

Don't you hate it when you know you're coming down with 'something'.

That elusive 'something' that when someone else has it you're thinking..."Thank goodness I don't have that."

Well, I think I'm about to have 'that'.

Everyone has the little tell tale sign that alerts them to the impending feeling of getting sick.

Mine is the way the roof of my mouth starts to feel. Ugh.

I hope I'm wrong.

Moons Phases and Retrograde Planets

There are times when it feels as though I am beating my head against a wall. Nothing, and I mean nothing seems to go smoothly. No matter what I do, no matter what I need to do, it seems like it is a struggle full of petty annoyances.

I used to think that perhaps it was just a phase but now I know the truth. Apparently it is planetary action that wrecks havoc on my simple existence.

Being a Virgo I am classified as a perfectionist so when things don't go as planned I tend to get pretty peeved. I don't throw tantrums, certainly not my style, I'm too much of a lady. But lest you think I let things just roll off my back no one has ever accused me of not speaking my mind.

What seems to be the culprit in the short term is that Mercury (ruling planet of Virgos and Geminis) is in retrograde...simply meaning that it seems to be going backwards. That is what is going on, forward motion seems to have been reversed and it is like hiccuping your way through life. Luckily this charming phenomenon will only last another week but I can certainly look forward to it a few times a year.

Having something to blame for the inconsistencies that are occurring cuts me some slack. After all, its not really me, its my planet.

The other truly fun period is during a full moon. I wonder if I have werewolf in me somewhere. The next time people are acting this side of odd, pay attention to the moon cycle. For me, I tend to stay home and hibernate in order to avoid craziness. I for one noticed I get fairly moody and all those years I thought it was PMS it was actually the moon.

So I'm going with the flow knowing that in a few days things will go back to normal.

I hope

I Should be Doing......

The decorating frenzy has hit me again.

Early last year, when I moved up here permanently, I put all my 'other' worldly belongings in my finished basement which up until today looked like the aftermath of a UPS truck explosion. Boxes and boxes of this and that strewn all over the place. It would give me a headache just passing the main room to do laundry.

The boxes didn't really have anything important in them, as I found out when I painstakingly went through each one. Mainly they were the catch all boxes. You know, the ones that you wind up tossing all the stuff you have no idea how to categorize, yet aren't quite willing to part with at the time of the move.

Amazing how that changes when you are forced to make a decision.

Oh looky, a cork from a wine bottle shared with that special guy. If I remembered who, I may have saved it. But, be that as it may, it is now in the trash where it probably should have gone the day after consumption.

So I've spent the better part of my day clearing the clutter and preparing a now empty room...for more 'stuff'. George Carlin would be proud.

All this, by the way, to avoid my homework which requires that I write two poems in different styles. Like any major procrastinator, I do my best work under pressure. Hopefully that will still be the case as I ponder the words which should follow:

There once was a man from Nantucket......

Tick Tick Tick

What is one's time worth?

That is a question I've been asking myself for over a year. When doing something I truly love, it doesn't much matter.

But, when doing something that isn't at all fulfilling...well, that is when that annoying little question creeps in like an unwelcome water leak.

It drips into your soul until you can hear nothing but that.

So that question is finding its way back into the forefront of my intellect. Time is everyone's best friend and at some point we acknowledge that only time will allow us the chance to make the choices that best suit us in the long run.

Maybe then we determine what our time is truly worth.

In the Mundane

I'm a little late in getting in my daily musings. I'm not even sure I have much to add today but the point is to just write something.

Some days things are as dull as dirt. Today was one of those days. There is pressure sometimes to scribble something of value, something life altering.

But not today.

We have been blessed with lots of snow. That white stuff that finds its way onto the ground and is beautiful to look at from behind the safety of a window or photo. Living in it is quite different. The illusion of snow is deceiving. Blanketing the horizon it transforms the landscape in natural beauty. Driving through it is an entirely different experience.

Everywhere you go takes that much longer. No matter how able your car, caution is the name of the game. You can't afford daydreaming even as you marvel at the intoxicating beauty around you. All it takes is a slight misjudgement and life can be upset in an instant.

As I spun into a slide on a back road, time seemed to slow down or even stop. The only thing I was aware of was the unrelenting pounding of my heart. Speed, or lack thereof meant nothing as the tires tried desperately to grip the ice. Skill alone is not enough.

It wasn't my time.

Those who take mother nature for granted soon learn that lesson the hard way. Within all beauty there is a danger. Sometimes imperceptible. Those are the moments that remind you that you can't just coast through life. To make it worth living, you have to be aware of the nuances, ignoring those can lead to damages that cannot be undone.

And This Little Piggie Went To....

When I made the decision to leave the financial industry behind, (and the income that went along with it) many of my friends and former co-workers were extremely concerned.

"How would I survive in Vermont?" they asked. Its not like jobs at the higher end of the pay scale were growing on trees. After all, this was the world of hourly wages.

One very concerned friend wondered how on earth I would ever again afford a pair of Jimmy Choos.

For one thing I've never owned a pair. It wasn't because I couldn't afford them at the time, but rather because I had become particularly fond of my pinkie toes.

Like most women (and dare I say some men), I love high heels. This relationship has been the longest standing of my life and began when I was around 7 years old. Back then they sold plastic high heel sandals with a simple elastic strap made for little girls which could be counted on to crack in half around the second or third wearing.

As I grew older, the shoes I wore were no longer made of acrylic but of fine leather and of course the heels got higher. They gave me the extra 3 to 4 inches that my 5'2" frame desperately needed. Throughout my life my love affair with stilettos flourished but never did I buy Choos.

There is an ugly Urban legend that is probably based in some reality that women were so desperate to wear these unusually narrow shoes that they would part with their beloved pinkie toe in order to do so.

Not me. I'd become attached to my little piggies. As much as I would have loved to don a sexy pair of these shoes, somehow foot mutilation didn't sound appealing even if the shoes promised to give my legs the illusion of appearing longer.

My friend needn't have been concerned. Turns out I didn't miss out on much. There aren't a lot of reasons to be wearing 4" heels up here anyway and certainly not with over 4' of snow on the ground.

So the the next time I sit with my 4 year old niece and say that little nursery rhyme, I can rest assure that my little piggy won't be crying 'wee wee we...all the way home'.

Calling Rod Serling

Its pretty annoying to get at phone call at 7:00 a.m. when you aren't expecting one. Thank God for caller ID.

It was a business I did not recognize and what business calls at that time anyway? Curiosity getting the better of me (and probably boredom) I looked the company up online and it turned out to be a construction company located in a town some 60 miles north of Ludlow.

A mistake for sure since I'm not building anything at the moment.

I find pop up ads incredibly annoying and Iusually ignore them but in the midst of looking up this company an ad did catch my eye. A search service that allows you to reverse search phone numbers. Who knew? (I'm sure you'll all be doing this now).

I would imagine that most people know that if you 'Google' a listed phone number, you will get information pertaining to that number. (I will stop for a moment while you Google your number and that of your friends). Since my phone number is unlisted I wondered if any of my information would appear. So I did a reverse search. (I told you I was bored).

A name did come up, as did an address but it wasn't mine. The best I could guess is that the information was that of the previous owner of said number.

So what?

The name meant nothing but the address caught my eye. Twilight Zone's theme music started playing in my head. My phone number belonged to the woman from whom one of my closest friends bought her house meaning that my number was previously connected to my friend's address.

Lest you say...well its a small town, yeah, but we do have more than 12 phone numbers to go around. Even though I worked with numbers over the past 30 years, I was never much of a mathematician yet even I know that statistically this is an outlier.

Really now.

Imagine what an episode that would have made.

Dance Along Your Path

I am taking this opportunity to wish you all a Happy, Healthy & Prosperous New Year.

The past year has been a study in turmoil, transition and perseverance. I've made it. I'm still here and still kicking. As I continue on this journey called my life, I am slowly shedding the skin I lived in for the better part of the past many years. My old life is still a part of me, albeit getting smaller. I have learned it is impossible to completely toss aside what was and I'm not even sure that I'd want to. Do I miss the old? Sometimes. But I would never give up the experiences that have come to pass in the past 12 months.

I've come to the point where I do not question things much anymore. Answering the 'whys' no longer appeal to me. I'd rather spend my time appreciating each new experience and with that the new energies that flow because of them. Sure, I'm like everyone else in that I periodically get caught up in the mundane, but the strides away from that are getting wider.

The promise of a new year always brings with it a promise for change. We just have to remember that the journey never ends with an intended goal, rather with enjoying the steps along the way. Everyday strengthens my conviction that the signs that point us in the direction we are to follow are everywhere. Being aware is the first step to finding the pace that works and even that can only happen when we are ready.

It is like dancing. We get to choose whether we are tangoing or fox trotting our way along.

Back in the Saddle Again

The decision has been made. But for completely different reasons.

Keeping my love of writing in mind, this week I went back to school...or at the very least I'm taking a class at St. Joseph's College in Rutland,VT. Funny thing about that is the very first college I attended in 1979 was St. Joseph's College in Brooklyn, NY. This, after having graduated from a high school run by the sisters of St. Joseph. What are the odds? I'll have to find out what St. Joseph is the patron saint of.

So I am back in the classroom setting some 25 years after my first experience (when I thought I already knew everything..HA). There is something about the smells in a school building and specifically a Catholic one. I closed my eyes that first day and the past rushed to become my present. It made me smile. I was such a geek. Anyone who has ever gone to a Catholic School can relate as I found out when I sent a text to a friend commenting on the 'smells'.

She replied with "OMG, I remember".

How I got here is in and of itself an interesting series of coincidences...and those you know me know I do not believe in coincidence. After a severe ice storm in December, I had to have my car unexpectedly serviced. CNBC talking heads were merrily droning on about this or that on the TV in the waiting room and instead of watching it like someone would the numbers ticking off the floors in an elevator, I wound up chatting with the only other person there. The conversation centered around business and the stock market. (I've been running from this for a year now). Turns out this person is a business professor at St. Joseph's. We talked about the school and its programs and he told me about the class I am now taking.

So, in keeping with the spirit of my blog, I'm letting life lead me to that next step. The class will give me a new way to approach writing and a much more structured format so that my brilliance can shine, or at the very least better work habits as I continue to work on my 'book'.

And who knows? Maybe there is a book signing in my future.

The experience will be terrific since now I'm in class because I want to be and not because I have to be but I don't expect it will be in any way, shape or form like Rodney Dangerfield's...after all...Kurt Vonnegut is dead.