Tag Archives: Dexter

Book Writing Saturday

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When I first read this message from the Universe, via Andrea Scher (given to me at her Mondo Beyondo session at the World Domination Summit this past summer), I knew it was true. I had absolutely no doubt about it.

I brought the note home with me, carrying it from Portland to Waldport, and then to Fort Collins as if it were a precious gift, a sacred text, a magic object. I placed it on my writing desk with a collection of other important, inspiring items, right where I would see it first thing every morning when I sat down to write.

Before I start a new project, and every Saturday when I sit down to start my four hours of work on my book, I read a prayer, an incantation that includes “I am here to lovingly and gently manifest the basic goodness that is at the heart of all, to embody wisdom and kindness, to be a warrior with a brave and tender heart.” Whether I remember to read it or not, this is always my intention, with my work, my art, my life.

It was clear to me when I first read my message from the Universe, written in Andrea’s handwriting, that “the dream” was to write and publish a book, the book I’ve been living, carrying in my heart. This was obvious to me, no doubt and no confusion. I though the “space” I was to make was obvious too–clear out the space in your schedule, make time. More specifically, I committed to these four hours, Book Writing Saturday.

I still think making time, committing to that is right, but it’s not everything. There is more to “making space” than just making time. Space is freedom. Space is unlimited and boundless, but also the measurable distance between, unoccupied, open, available. Space is the gap, the blank, the breath, the quiet between words. Space is what occupies this moment. Space is where my voice echoes and sounds, takes shape and is heard. Space is open and vast, can accommodate and contain anything and everything, or nothing.

I need to open up space, allow for things to arise (and dissolve) naturally while I remain open and available. I need to clear out the confusion and clutter, quiet the chatter, to simplify, to surrender, to let go. The other part of the book that needs space is the part I’m living, losing the 2nd dog in three years to cancer. Losing Obi started this book, this life rehab, and here I am again. This loss, this letting go needs my attention, my time, my awareness.

I am here to lovingly and gently manifest the basic goodness that is at the heart of all, to embody wisdom and kindness, to be a warrior with a brave and tender heart.

Gratitude Friday

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This post is a mashup of The Little Bliss List and Joy Jam, and as such is meant to celebrate: the little things that brought me hope and happiness this week, the sweet stuff of life, those small gifts that brought me joy this week. By sharing them, I not only make public my gratitude, but maybe also help you notice your own good stuff and send some positive energy out into the world.

1. Fall. The colors (vivid green, gold, red, purple, and brown–even the gray of rot and dust and the white of ice shimmers like it’s on fire), the temperature (sunny and warmish during the day, cool at night), the clothes (everything so soft and warm and cuddly), and the food (soup and warm drinks and cheese and carbs, solid comforting food).

2. 19 years with my favorite person. I still can’t get over how lucky I am.

19 years ago we eloped, got married in evergreen, colorado, and both wore green

3. Another Aimee Mann concert, with some of my favorite people in the audience. She’s so good, so talented and smart and funny, (Eric and I think we’ve seen her at least seven times now, including her Christmas variety show), and so gracious even when people in the crowd who’ve had too much to drink won’t stop yelling at her, (btw: wasn’t me).

Here’s the original Til Tuesday video.

4. Good days for Dexter. When there is no cure, and the treatments don’t make much difference, and you get closer to the end when the amount of time no longer matters as much as the quality: you can let go of the search for a better therapy, you can stop trying to control the outcome, you can let go of wishing things were different, you can surrender your panic and dread, and sink into fully experiencing each single day. All that matters is “was today a good day?” and if the answer is “yes,” you feel gratitude and agree to move together into the next day. You are present, you connect and love and are together for that day, that moment. You don’t spend your now banking time for later, waiting or hoping or dreading. This is exactly what life should be, what it is, and you experience it with an open heart. In this way, you won’t miss anything, won’t have regrets. Your heart will still break, but this is the deal when you love anything mortal.

5. My Writing Online, writing for the web class. I am grateful for how funny, smart, and creative these people are, how they laugh at my dumb jokes and make me laugh, how they help each other and the way they celebrate their successes, the way their particular voices are emerging. If this does end up being the last time I teach it for CSU, this will be a great community to end with.

Bonus Joy: Finding feathers in my path when I’m struggling, how they remind me that I am part of a tribe, a part of something beautiful.