A quote for 2012

"When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."
- Paulo Coelho

Go crazy

Working at a coffee shop today, I overheard a mom and her little boy talking.

Prince's "Let's Go Crazy" comes on satellite radio in coffee shop.

Mom (sings along happily): "I haven't heard this in forever! I love this song!"

Little boy: "Who IS this?"

Mom: "Oh, just a song I used to sing in college, like all the time. Drove my roommates crazy."

Little boy: "Can I have another biscotti?"

This is not what I expected

Funny how this year has turned out.

Expected to have a book deal for my novel by now. Don't. But did finish a second book just a week ago, seemingly by accident through the lonely fight, the rough spots, the sorrow and joy.

Not just a book. A great book.

Dreamed of the ocean all year. All year the solemn hush and crash of waves - a recording on CD - sustained me, soothed me, inspired me. Listened to that CD for hours, weeks, months. And now I'm here. Freelance writer, living by the sea. Writing. Always writing.

This is success, right here and right now.

Occupy

I'm watching the Occupy movement with growing interest. It's like people have finally woken up. I think Robert Reich does a great job of summarizing things in his recent Huffington Post piece.

Sitting with myself

Today, here, I met myself. Here, while reading Jake Fades. I met me - the whole, the real me. And I smiled.

Jake Fades, by David Guy, is a sweet novel about life, beer, donuts, sex, and oh, yes - Zen. It especially focuses on zazen, or the practice of sitting meditation. You sit, breathe, and see what arises. Soften to all the feelings.

Zen. Zazen. There is something to be said for just sitting.

Seeking literary agent

I'd love to hear from a literary agent. I am seeking representation now.

Single in your 30s

I read this article on single women in their 30s in the New York Times (it tickled me that it was in the Fashion & Style section). It's not Carrie Bradshaw, but a touching look at the question the author and her single friends asked themselves when they reached the mid-thirties, unmarried:

What's wrong with me?

Sara concludes that the answer isn't about something being wrong - but the timing being right. The right guy comes at the right time. Totally! I like her. And I'd like to read the book her byline says she's writing about women who get married after age 35.

When I lived in Mexico, every male I met asked me this question:

Where is your husband? And your babies?

I felt defensive then. Now, I think, well: he's on the way. He's looking for me, I'm looking for him, and our paths are bound to cross. I've had a lot of great love - even great romance - along the way. And truthfully, I've been traveling so much it's no wonder he couldn't find me!

I welcome being found.

I surrender, again

When things feel overwhelming...I surrender. Breathe. And surrender, again.

Headlong into life

This morning I thought I'd go for a little swim. The sea looked so lovely and gentle. As I got to waist-deep, a big, mean wave came out of nowhere and smacked me in the face. Then another one, which dragged me on my rear end and turned me over. Sputtering, I crawled out, my bikini full of sand and eyes burning with salt.

Gentle, my ass.

I got to thinking about this later today (after a nap). The ocean is pure, raw, crazy powerful LIFE. And as I've found out, when you jump headlong into life, sometimes you get smacked.

But you also get loved. Because now I feel invigorated after my tussle with Mother Ocean. Worked over by the physical rush of it.

I really love my ability to jump headlong into life!

To the beach

I have moved back to the beach - this time the coast of North Carolina. Sound of the ocean when I wake up and when I fall asleep. Sharp tang of the salt air. Feeling more at home in the short time I've been here than anywhere else I've lived in 2011.

I'm silly with gratitude as I write this with my view of sparkling waves.

What now for me? Whatever comes. Anything is possible.

Love and... Ludacris?

Lately I've been trying zazen, the Buddhist practice of sitting. It's not your usual meditation - an emptying of the mind. This is sitting with what is, letting your mind range - and moving forward from there. What's coming up for me is loneliness. If happiness is accepting what is, then I can't get happy with being alone anymore.

I accept that it is unacceptable for me to be without my love any longer!

Take that, Buddha.

I am fucking lonely. I am happy with who I am, where I've been, where I'm going...and I am ready to share. NOW. I'm not afraid to say these things. I want to be held. To touch and be touched. To fall asleep with someone, wake up with someone, adventure together through this thing called life.

Being alone even one more day is completely unacceptable to me.

And on a completely unrelated note, I heard this fun song by Ludacris in my car yesterday, My Chick Bad. The hook caught me:

My chick bad
My chick hood
My chick do stuff that your chick wish she could

I have always enjoyed Ludacris, ever since What's Your Fantasy.

Blues rock is my drug of choice but you've gotta admit: a lot of the edgiest stuff that's come out in recent decades is rap. Nelly, Eminem, Missy Elliot, Ludacris.

Don't even get me started on Country Grammar. When that came out, NOTHING sounded like it. It was revolutionary, fool!

So if you're looking for a woman who's unafraid of sharing her dark feelings and jamming to some rap from the Dirty South...I'm your gal.

Things are going to get sticky, anyway

I didn't plan to take a vacation from my blog. Just kinda happened. Felt good. Things are changing rapidly in my life and I don't know how to write about them yet. Plus, let's face it: nothing else was big enough to overshadow my entry on Derek Trucks!

And it still isn't, but...

Leave it to a mouse to give you a kick in the pants. Or in the dress.

Recently I opened my closet to find a mouse had chewed some of my good dresses. I was pissed, and spent an afternoon ranting about it. But then I realized: there is a lesson here. This is only "bad" if I say so. Only "infuriating" if I say so. Maybe it just freakin' IS.

That little mouse was a Buddha in disguise. Because since then, I've been taking a pause when I feel overly emotional. Just a minute to say "Ok. I'm angry (sad, freaked, grievous, anxious, whatever). That's interesting." And in this moment, I can short-circuit the emotion so it doesn't take over. RADICAL! It just IS. So...where do I go from there?

Now this morning, I popped a small jar of honey...cue evil foreshadowing music...

into my purse to use for my cup of morning tea at a client's office. I put it in a plastic bag to avoid a honey meltdown.

BUT THAT SHIT DID NOT WORK! Got to the office to find the top of the jar had loosened and the bag broke, oozing sweet, golden goodness all over my stuff.

What's the lesson there? I'm just so sweet? More of the cosmic joke? Or is it...

You may try to control things but things are going to get sticky, anyway.

Derek Trucks

Derek Trucks. In concert. Tonight. Bliss.

Going to see Derek tear it up with his new outfit, the Tedeschi Trucks Band. Tedeschi as in Susan Tedeschi, his wife and fellow musician.

Derek Trucks is a blazing amazing guitar player, a wizard with a slide and the absolute cosmic master of the instrument. No one plays the slide guitar like Derek.

Nothing is sweeter than the few hours before a live show...

...except for the show itself, man. Except for the show itself.

graciasgraciasgracias

Here's how you do it

I've talked to a number of friends lately who are teetering on the brink of their dreams. It's like an outbreak or something. Everyone's looking to mutiny, make a jailbreak from the mundane. What does it take to make it happen, get through the confusion, stop feeling so awful? they ask.

It takes an unswerving commitment to dig into your heart and then follow what's there. No matter what.

Be fearless. You must not let your doubts and fears stop you. Money, time, security, grief, loneliness, your past: these are excuses. See them for what they are. Illusions. Trust me. They are just illusions to be blown away like smoke, no matter how big they seem. I KNOW this.

So you've been scared before. Bankrupt before. Hurt before. Someone stomped your heart. Someone trapped you, ignored you, beat you down. Broke you. You feel like you fucked up. You did fuck up. Me, too. So what? So what? Do it anyway.

How do you figure out what you want? Ask yourself: What brings me bliss?

Start moving in the direction of your dreams and trust me, you'll be supported. I KNOW this, too.

Who am I? A woman that will never stop. I want to keep traveling, tasting, exploring the world, people, adventures, all the range of emotions and senses. I make my own rules. I will have a home base next to the ocean but I will always be on the move somehow. I'm a writer and will always be. I'm going to go to massage school one day. I have so much to share and I will do it, blissfully and without reserve. I am ready - despite my fears! - to have a fiercely / gently passionate relationship with a fellow traveler who takes one look at me and can say,

WOW. I want some more of you. As much as possible. Starting right now. Been waiting for this all my life, baby.

Oh, yum.

I will follow this path even at the risk of death because it's the only way I can live.

Gracias

Today I feel an overwhelming gratitude to be alive, in this body.

How about you?

Crush and Ganesh

Look who I saw yesterday: Ganesh! My friend M told me that he has a big head, telling you to think big and go beyond your limitations. Also, he has big ears, telling you to listen and follow what you hear.

I have a crush. He's a beautiful artist. I saw him looking at me. And hopefully he saw me looking at him. I gave him my phone number.

I wonder where the story goes from here.

Om Gum Ganapatayei Namaha
Salutations to Ganesh, remover of obstacles

Beach

These are blanket flowers sprouting from the sand at the beach. I read up on them and they grow best in harsh conditions.

Kind of like me, I suppose. Which is why I was at the beach. To create a blissful condition and escape the harshness that's been dogging me.

Here's what I learned: when I feel depleted, depressed, and stressed, I must lay flat on the ground and absorb the rejuvenating power of the Earth. In this case, the sand right next to the ocean.

Showering with butterflies

I've moved back to the woods, where I shower with butterflies. (They are greedy with the soap). I fall asleep to the sound of banjo frogs and cicadas. And sometimes wake in the middle of the night to the wild noises of bard owls mating.

Being here in a beautiful space...surrounded by nature's inspiration...in a community of artists and mavericks...with a housemate who is artistic, conscious, and funny: all of it is one step closer to the vibe of my ocean home.

I'm also flirting more, connecting more, and just generally loving life more. All of this is sexy (take that, you horny owls!). To me and to others. I'm anticipating a date this week with a gorgeous, unconventional guy.

And writing. Of course. It's my first, my last, my everything. To quote the great master Barry White. It's who I am. End of story. Ha! So how am I doing in this arena? More and more freelance clients. Just submitted a short story and am finishing up another. Waiting oh so patiently as my book makes the rounds.

Longings

"If she satisfied her longings they would by definition not be longings anymore. By living out the things she wished, there would only be possible failure. She feared failure even more than continuing to harbor unsatisfied longings. So it seemed quite clear that the only courageous thing to do was act on her desires."

- Louise Erdrich, Tales of Burning Love

I adore Louise Erdrich. I re-read these words today and they gave me a delicious jolt.

End oil and gas subsidies now

You're struggling to pay all your bills. Gas prices are too high to justify and businesses are passing on their increased transportation costs. All the while, who is seeing record profits?

That's right. Big oil and gas companies and their grossly overpaid executives. This includes BP, the company that knowingly caused the biggest environmental disaster in history.

Are you OK with this? If not, speak out right now:

• Write the President
• Write your congressional representative
• Write your senator

I have. You can do it via email in 5 minutes. The thought of bailing out or subsidizing one more "needy" industry makes no sense.

Lust in the Leaflight

I don't have a lusty encounter - muddy, grass-stained, delicious, took place under these branches - to relate. Sorry. Tricked you. And here you are, reading my blog.

I am feeling lusty though. Spring, and a young woman's thoughts turn to...

Oh, come on! You'd all rather be gettin' some than whatever you're doing right now. All of you! Banging, balling, bonking, rolling in the hay, fucking, knocking boots, getting laid, gettin' busy, doin' the wild thing. Admit it!

Coming to terms with the edge

Talking with a friend today, I reflected on how I frequently find myself dancing on the edge. The edge of what I think is my limit creatively, financially, and emotionally. I keep reaching places I thought I'd never see, didn't want to see, and cringe to experience.

So WHY? WHY?

Because I value freedom so much...because I find the edge more potent and lively...because I feel like security is limiting...because I equate the soft plains of stability with a kind of death...because I am a writer and need material....because it is all part of the cosmic illusion and I need to surprise myself continually...?

Now we're getting somewhere.

OK. From here on out: I am totally comfortable with so many edges, especially in terms of my writing and relationships and emotional experience. In terms of home and finances, though, I must have - yes, I demand and claim - a stable foundation.

It's time for a measure of stability. That in itself would be novel right now!

THAT...

...was a mistake!

More of THIS and THAT

I'm having a hard time accepting my life right now. A few weeks ago, I wrote about the cosmic joke and a choice between THIS and THAT.

Well, I chose THAT. And I'm fighting against my decision. Unable to find peace with it.

I read recently that to gain freedom, I needed fierce integrity. Doesn't that mean holding to my rawest, juiciest truth NO MATTER WHAT? When I chose THAT, did I lose integrity? Does my inability to sit with this mean I chose wrongly?

Fucking fuck.

Spring is hot pink

Bynum Bridge: doesn't it make you feel good?

Spring stillness

"By being still and receptive, instead of busily trying to find solutions, we give our intelligence the time and space it needs to find an appropriate way to proceed.... What is fresh and alive comes only from the unknown."

- John Welwood, Ordinary Magic

Stars

if i happen to open
my eyes in the night
head to pillow, sleepy waking

i see stars glinting, tossed
across the velvet sky
inked shadows of tall pines

Do you chew your food?

I'm serious. Do you chew your food or do you just wolf it? No disrespect to wolves.

Here in the woods I've finally learned to chew. I know this sounds humorous. If you had asked me before if I chewed, I'd have said well of course, I don't just swallow it whole. I mean, I've eaten at amazing restaurants, had five-star cuisine even, a handful of times. It tasted refined, nuanced, gorgeous.

(But did I really chew those wonderful meals? I just don't know!)

So here's what happened. I read "Anger" by Thich Nhat Hanh and he suggested that mindful eating, along with mindful walking and mindful breathing, is a sure way to diffuse anger or any other negative emotion, dissolving it right away in a sea of mindfulness. For mindful eating, the instruction was to simply sit and eat, no distractions, being present, and here's the kicker: to chew each bite 50 times.

Now I don't know if I'm getting to 50. I'm not counting. But I'm chewing way more. And it's clear that before, I was a wolf scarfing her meat down. Now I'm savoring. It's making a big difference, physically and emotionally. Before, I wasn't aware if I was chewing or not. Damn.

Hanh goes on to say that mindful living in general - whether working, playing, cleaning, eating - will serve to either amplify good emotions or pacify bad ones.

I almost feel I'm confessing something embarrassing. Like someone could read this and say she used to wolf her food!

But so many people do. YOU may. Maybe you just wolfed a snack before you read this, in like three bites!

Hell, I used to wolf my LIFE.

But no more. Now I savor. Savor: imagine it taking five seconds to say this word and that is what I'm doing. Mexico would be so proud of me.

Best picture goes to...

After having seen some of the contenders for this year's Best Picture Oscar, I can't seem to put my finger on the winner. Here's why...

True Grit: Best Use of Jeff Bridges
Jeff Bridges seriously kicked ass in this movie. By turns funny and vicious, his character totally showcased Jeff's chops. Sometimes I thought: whoa, it's The Dude as a gunman. And who cares? It's just Jeff, shining through gruffly and smartly in all his Dudeness. Loved the relationship between the Rooster and Mattie, the sparse plot, and Matt Damon's chivalrous Texas Ranger. And the ending made me cry.

The King's Speech: Best All-Around
Colin Firth and Geoffrey Rush are just radiant. Colin is the thinking woman's sex symbol. Geoffrey could play anyone beautifully. Every element of the film: flawless. Well done. For the cohesive and complete excellence, I can see it being Best Picture. You're holding your breath, hoping against hope that the King can pull it off for Britain and the world. And the ending made me cry.

Black Swan: Best Sexy & Obsessive
Natalie Portman was soooo disturbing. She portrayed the inhibited, obsessed ballerina with such passion and panache. Absolute Best Actress. A far cry from the sweet Sam in Garden State. The sexual undertone was delicious. The adrenaline-fueled tension was...frankly very uncomfortable throughout. You want to take an anxiety pill afterwards, or hug kittens, anything to bring you back down. And the ending, yes, made me cry.

Winter's Bone: Best Raw & Real
A big sister with a heart - and cojones - of steel tracks down her father's killer. Some crazy things happening out in the impoverished woods of Missouri. It's like a trip to another country, one with its own brutal and closed culture, laws, and language. Courageous acting and screenplay. The least Hollywood of any nominee and I mean that as praise.

And one that wasn't a nominee yet deserves a big mention...

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World: Best Edgy Epic Hip
It's a video game! It's a graphic novel! It's a movie! It's a music video! What an insanely cool concept. It blew me away, the way that Pulp Fiction did when I first saw it (but with less gore). Like: did that just happen? Or: how awesome that the girlfriend's name is Knives? FUN FUN FUN and in my mind, groundbreaking.

Cosmic joke

I've been weighing two options. Let's call them THIS and THAT, to keep it simple. I've managed to get pretty tangled in my deliberations...

Is THIS or THAT better? If I do THAT then does it mean I can never do THIS again? THAT doesn't really align with who I am anymore, so is it wrong to even try it? Will THAT fuck me up in the head? THIS may not last, so should I worry? THIS seems foolhardy, while THAT seems onerous. Is THAT what it's come to? Am I worthy of THIS?

Hoo boy.

I meditated about it. I read some cards. I asked friends. I wrote about it. I tossed a coin. I made a list of pros and cons.

Then, thankfully, I realized (or remembered!): it doesn't matter if I do THIS or THAT. My choice is irrelevant. What matters is how I do it: happy, calm, in the flow, laughing. Because it's all a big cosmic joke. Laugh at the cosmic joke!

Look at me

That's what this cardinal seems to be saying. Look at me. How can you miss me with this fabulous red coat on? These sexy guys are all over the woods where I'm staying. In fact, all kinds of funky animal friends are busting out in the woods: big spiders, a bullfrog, owls, hawks, deer.

This cool little North Carolina vortex of life is helping me bust out some words and art, too. My creativity is off the charts right now.

Look at me. Not the cardinal! Me, the writer. If you've ever wondered what it's like to live straight from your gut, this is it, baby. It's all magic, all the time.

Sometimes magic can hurt. Just saying! But if you've been reading my blog (and if you haven't, you can always catch up in the archive!) you know the tasty secret: the pain is outpaced by the pleasure.

Sanctuary

I've retreated to a sweet, calm sanctuary way out in the woods, where I'll spend a month writing, reading, walking, and meditating. Space! Quiet! Or rather, songs of nature: birds, water in a pond, horses.

Having spent the past few months living with less space, this is magical and I am grateful. Thanks K, for making this possible for me.

I've decided it's hard to live with someone you're not sleeping with. If you're having sex this indicates a level of coming together, of commitment and intimacy that lets you be in close quarters on a daily basis: sharing a bathroom, padding around in socks, working, playing, being crazy emotional when you need or want to be.

I'm working on my second book. It's sexual, angry, outrageous. All the better to be in a place where I can laugh / scream / cry AS LOUD AS I PLEASE!

Valentine's Day 2011

Happy Valentine's Day: here's wishing you unfettered joy and pleasure no matter where you are, who you're with, or what you're doing.

I started this blog on February 14, 2010, to chronicle my writing journey. It's taken me from North Carolina, to Maine (where I launched the blog), to Mexico, back to Maine...and completing that circle, back to North Carolina once again. Phew.

Thank you for reading...

56 degrees

It's 56F outside, with a bright blue cloudless sky. The sun feels glorious. I am happy.

Generation ?

The other day I followed a trail of blog links and found myself engrossed in a forest of blogs written by 20-somethings.

Nothing against our Gen Y friends. It's just that reading their stuff drives home the point that I'm a person who may have hit her technology wall at the iPod. I got one, couldn't make it work. Gave it to my twenty-something brother. I'll take my eight-tracks, I mean CDs, thank you.

I'm not on Facebook, MySpace, or Twitter, or Flickr...don't own an iPad, iPhone, or e-reader. I'm sure that one day, as a wildly successful author, I will need more of a social media presence. I can see the allure of Twitter...it's like daily poetry. Poetry rocks.

But maybe I'll just get an intern to do it.

Back to the blogs. Rambling, hip, unfocused streams of consciousness fueled by whopping cups of extra-tall vanilla hazelnut espresso-shot latte, Lady Gaga, and the mad energy of living with five roommates. Or whatever. Energy drinks and pizza. One in particular was really funny, talking about her vagina like it was a fashionable girlfriend who lived in New York City. She had a gazillion followers and all the comments went something like this:

Follower: OMG that last post was so ON! i luv ur blog!!!!! xoxoxo LOL
Blog Girl: No, i luv UR blog!!!!!!
Follower: No, i luv {{{UR}}} blog! it TOTALLY KICKS ASS, when i graduate from high school i want to BE U.

And so on.

I can't help but wonder (shades of Carrie Bradshaw...I'm such a 30-something...) :

Does a flippant blog about your vagina make you hip and popular?

TTYL.

Open...or closed?

Something has shifted.

I was in yoga class the other day and the instructor said that at any one moment we have two choices: to be opening, or closing to what's in front of us. And it hit home for me: I have had a big CLOSED sign up lately. CLOSED to almost every facet of my life. That means I was CLOSED to new things coming my way! Oh no!

The instructor also talked about getting through resistance. You can either fall into a mental swamp when you get into a position that's uncomfortable: oh my god, I hate it here, why am I here, let me back out of this, I think I'm going to pull something, I can't do this.... This holds true for asanas - yoga poses - or for your random life situation.

OR you can breathe through it and see what opening this seemingly uncomfortable place brings.

Stop resisting your life, I told myself. So I hung out the OPEN sign and things are moving. Forward.

Helloooo, 2011!

Tracey Emin's "You Should Have Loved Me," 2008.
Courtesy of the North Carolina Museum of Art - on current exhibition

Today I braved Maine-like windchills to go the North Carolina Museum of Art. I was thoroughly impressed with the exhibitions, the space, and the redesigned grounds.

Above is the most delectable piece. Raw, gorgeous emotion. I saw Tracey Emin's "Love Poem" (another neon, in glorious hot pink) in Vienna a few years ago and it left me breathless.

Oh...speaking of breathless, she says girlishly. Said trip to the museum was a first date. With a lovely redheaded boy.

And he brought me flowers!