November

As November draws to a close, I am writing with great gratitude for the many gifts it has brought me.

November used to be my least favorite month. Cold and dark and rainy, for most of my life I have viewed November as a dreaded bone-chilling expanse between crisp and colorful October and festive, white December. This November, I feel differently.

Over the past few years, I have come to appreciate November as something more than the dismal month connecting October and December. I don't believe that November, itself, has changed - especially since I now live further North than I have in the past and my experience of November is colder and darker than ever. Instead, I know that I have changed. As I've slowly unwound from my fast paced attorney life, each November since 2008 has seemed a little softer, a bit quieter, a tad less lonely and even a little less dark to me. As my mind has relaxed from the constant pressure of tracking trial deadlines, scheduling meetings, and preparing for court appearances, I have developed a greater awareness of my physical surroundings: the path the sun marks in the sky, the moon's light pouring through my sleeping window, and the blooming and retiring of nature's bounty from Spring into Fall.

As I walked past the lake on November 21st, the cold, dark water reflected the blue-gray clouds as the chilled breeze blew small, lapping waves upon the sandy shoreline. In this moment, I embraced the joy and blessing that is November - a time for slowing down from the chaotic blaze of color that October offers, reflecting on nature's transition, and preparing for December's snowy, peace. The lake's beauty engulfed me as I recognized that the gentle unwinding within me, now surrounds me, and I gave thanks for this and every November of my life.

Left Brain: "Just Tell Me What To Do, Please!"

I've spent most of the past two days fretting. Tying myself in knots and tangles in the most unproductive way, I have, quite frankly, been feeling miserable. Miserable as in trapped - for no apparent reason. Nothing has dramatically changed from a week ago when I was quite happy and pleasantly productive, so I could not determine what exactly was causing my malaise. Yes, here in the north woods, it is still dark at 7:30 a.m. and yes, it has been overcast and gray for days now, but that just didn't seem like enough to cause me, a generally optimistic and upbeat soul, to wallow so deeply in my pit of seemingly self created despair.

Today, I got curious. I started to look at this misery from an objective viewpoint and after turning it this way and that to see all sides of it, I figured it out. No deadlines. The difference between last week - happy - and this week - miserable - is the absence of deadlines. I have no meetings to prepare for, no emails of any pressing importance to draft, no birthday cards to artistically create, no nothing. Of course, I have lots that I could be doing to meet future deadlines: there are paper mache bowl orders to fill before Christmas, two birthdays in November, and handouts to edit for a series of workshops I am presenting in the Spring, but none of them are demanding my immediate attention.

This used to happen to me as an attorney. I would finish a brief and wander around my office for three days checking email and feeling like a complete fraud because I felt incapacitated to accomplish even the simplest of tasks. I always attributed this post-project time period to mental exhaustion, but now I am seeing it in a whole new light. Deadlines. It turns out that those pesky time sensitive proverbial "lines in the sand" that I have dreaded my entire life are actually a necessary boundary that allows my left brain to focus on an identifiable, concrete goal. Left untethered by such a boundary, my thinking, analytical left brain quite literally turns on itself in sheer boredom like a border collie without a job. Simply fascinating.

I am looking forward to testing this new hypothesis in the coming week and, fingers crossed,returning to my cheerful, productive self.

Just Answer the Question, Please!

As an attorney, I have been trained to ask questions, demand that others answer those questions and do all that I can not to answer a single question directed my way. No longer practicing law, I have carried this conditioning with me and continue to practice NOT answering questions. This morning, I realized what a huge disservice I have done to myself in practicing such evasion. This morning's interaction:

Husband: "What do you want for breakfast?"
Me: "I don't know, it's your birthday weekend, what do you want?"

Now, this may seem sweet, at first glance. He should have whatever he wants on his birthday, right? Yes, and no. Yes, because he deserves some pampering on his birthday. No, because evading the question made me feel small and powerless. When given the opportunity to express my desire, I chose to hide my truth instead. As a result, my "answer", instead of being sweet and selfless, served no one. It robbed me of the opportunity to be and feel heard and it robbed him of the opportunity to consider another possibility that my answer may have presented.

After this exchange, I realized that I no longer want to live this way. I want to be seen and heard in this world in every way. I now see that his choice and mine can coexist, such that we both have the opportunity to be heard and feel satisfied with the outcome. My goal for this coming week is to practice what I have told countless witnesses in preparing for trial: listen to the question and answer the question.

I'm Back!

Okay, confession time. I have been avoiding this space like the plague . . . and all of you. I'm not proud of my cowardice, but I am, with this post, emerging from the dark in which I have been hiding these past few months back into the light of revelation and truth.

In my first post on 12/14/10, I asked all of you to "just show up", here, in this space, with the intent that your presence, alone, would keep me honest with myself and focused on my journey and I promised to do the same.  This equation only works, however, if both parties actually participate.  These past few months I have not held up my part of the bargain knowing that writing for all of you would require me to be accountable to me, as well.  And, frankly, I have not been all that impressed with my behavior over these past few months.

I started this blog to help myself out of addiction to sugar. In April, I committed to no longer eating sugar, fruit included, and I have stuck by that commitment. However, nature does not enjoy a vacuum and when the sugar left, I replaced it quite handily with the next category of carbohydrates on what I call "the carbohydrate continuum", whole grain.  Bingeing on rice and oats doesn't sound too, bad, right? Wrong. Bingeing is binging and carbohydrates turn into sugar in the body, so even though the effects of my binging were not as dramatic, the stress on my body, and my conscience, has remained.

Addiction feeds on darkness, silence, and stress and all the yoga, meditation, prayer, grounding techniques, chakra energy work, and breathing in the world, in my experience, can not replace the healing revelatory power that comes from sharing myself with others. And, so, this is me, emerging from the dark, whole, and willing to journey this day with you, by my side, knowing that together we can heal anything. Thank you for being here.

Eternal Possibility, Part III: Editing and Proofreading

Eternal Possibility: living knowing that all things are possible involves redefining how I relate to my world.

When I left the practice of law in 2008, I did not expect to practice law again, however, I did expect that the skills I learned as an attorney would, in time, serve me in another way. One skill I developed in law school, practiced as an appellate attorney, and continue to enjoy is editing/proofreading. I love the power word choice and placement give an author to convey their thoughts to another through time and space. And I love knowing that my ability to spot errors will lead a reader to greater enjoyment as the words flow effortlessly across the page.

For the past six weeks, I have spent considerable time editing/proofreading for Concord Free Press, a non-profit alternative publisher. I was first introduced to CFP in June 2009 when I attended a book release party for CFP's second title, Push Comes To Shove, by Wesley Brown. Before the book reading, Editor-in-Chief and founder, Stona Fitch explained CFP's concept: Generosity in Publishing. Free books, written by well known authors, that raise money for a charity or cause of the reader's choice. I was hooked. Here was a group of writers who recognized publishing as a vehicle to spread good will and made it happen. The beauty of the CFP concept is that the authors retain the publishing rights, so the books are often published and sold through mainstream outlets, following the CFP release, while the CFP copies continue to circulate and raise money for those in need. The ability to retain the publishing rights attracts well known authors to CFP. In turn, the authors' prior work creates a reader-base eager to donate in exchange for the opportunity to read their favored author's new release. Every person involved benefits. Simply brilliant. I couldn't wait to get involved.

I immediately volunteered to edit/proofread for CFP and in Fall 2009 I did a final proofread/edit of CFP's third title, The Next Queen of Heaven, written by Gregory Maguire. I loved every minute of it. Since then, I have worked with CFP on three hard copy books and, most recently, on five e-books newly released for concord e-press. The proceeds of the e-books are split equally between the author and CFP, which will make CFP viable for years to come.

To date, CFP readers have donated over $215,000 to causes worldwide that are as varied as giving 7 pounds (approximately $11.00) to a homeless person in the U.K. to donating $1,000 to the Red Cross. My work with CFP has been infinitely rewarding: I love reviewing the work of talented authors knowing that I am part of an organization that is making a difference in the world; and, I love that I have found a creative way to use the editing/proofreading skills I developed as an attorney in service of the greater good.

If you are interested in learning more about CFP, you can check out the site at: http://www.concordfreepress.com/  To visit concord e-press, click here: http://www.concordepress.com/

Gladstone, Michigan: How I Got Here!

It takes great faith for me to step into the unknown and trust that my foot will land on something solid, that I will be cared for, and safe in that new, as yet unrevealed space. Each time I do so I am rewarded beyond my expectations. The process of finding a place to live in Michigan required such a leap of faith.

As of Thursday morning, April 7th, my husband and I were all set to rent a house in Rapid River, Michigan. The moving truck was scheduled for pickup on Friday morning and we planned to leave Boston on Saturday and arrive in Michigan on Tuesday, April 12th. On Thursday afternoon, that all changed.
Our to-be landlady called and said that she had a buyer for the house we had rented and, although she intended to honor our lease agreement, the buyer had 30 days to move from her home and had offered to buy us out of our six month lease at $1,000 a month if we agreed to find another place to live.

At this point, we had a choice to make. We could ask our landlady to honor the lease agreement; or, motivated by the promise of $$, and knowing that the house sale would help our landlady, we could spend time trying to find a suitable alternative. We chose the latter. In less than 36 hours we had secured a new place to live, made arrangements for utilities, and substantially packed the truck. On Sunday, April 10th, mid-move, we learned that the house buyer had backed out of the deal.

Now, one could read this story and say, "Aren't those two naive. They had a sure thing and they gambled it for what was obviously a false promise of money because who has $6,000 to just give away these days?"

OR, one could read this story and say, "Wow! Isn't that amazing! They could have told the landlady it was too late, they had an agreement, they needed to concentrate on packing, not finding another place to live on such short notice, and they liked the house they had rented. Done. But they didn't. Instead, one day before the moving truck arrived, knowing that the promised money was not guaranteed, and wanting to help their landlady sell the house, they took the risk that they would find a new place, overnight, that would meet their needs, and trusted it to work out. They just trusted it would work out. And it did. Wow!"

We trusted, and it worked out beyond our expectations. The first house was bright, clean, spacious, had garden space, a back deck, and lovely neighbors. It was also located on U.S. 2, a 55 mile per hour highway that sees significant truck traffic, would require my husband to commute 25 minutes to work, and was miles from the nearest store.

The new place is located in a quiet neighborhood, 2 miles from busy U.S. 2, five miles from my husband's new job, walking distance to many stores, and the space is beautiful, as well.

So, what about the money?? It never mattered whether the money was actual or virtual. The idea of the money was enough. It diverted our attention from the effort required to change our plans under a tight deadline, and gave me, and my husband, the motivation to expend such effort with a positive attitude. Once we made our choice, the money was no longer necessary. It had served its purpose.

Had we chosen the guaranteed option and decided to rent the house on U.S. 2, we would have been just fine. In choosing the unknown, however, we ended up so much better than fine. We were rewarded, beyond our expectations, for our leap of faith, which once again verified our belief that anything is possible.

MI Here I Come!

Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Destination: Rapic River (near the Route 2 sign above Gladstone)!

I'm moving. MOVING! I'm REALLY moving!! I decided to leave New England in December 2000. I started dating my husband in February 2001, and I'm still here, but not for long. The moving truck permit is posted, my living room is filled eight feet high with boxes, the piano has been sold, and I am moving. It feels fabulous!

My New England journey started in 1992 with an insatiable desire to move to Boston. I was living in Notasulga, Alabama, population ~900, working for an environmental consulting firm when the feeling came upon me. I HAD to move to Boston. It was inexplicable, really. I had driven through Boston once my senior year in high school as I boarded a cruise ship to Bermuda. I returned with a close friend during college and was in awe of the old stone churches, cobblestone streets, and rich history that pervades the city. I given it much thought after than until 1992 when the thought struck and stuck. I had to move to Boston. I bought a copy of The Boston Globe every Sunday and searched the Classifieds for jobs. Soon thereafter, law school fever assailed me in a similar fashion and I applied to three schools in Boston, alone.

When I arrived here in August 1994 for my first year at Suffolk Law, I remember looking at the lit up Boston skyline and wanting to pinch myself to make sure it was all real. I had arrived and my future was bright and beautiful. I graduated from law school and was working as a prosecutor in the Middlesex District Attorney's Office when I decided, in December 2000, that I wanted to be closer to my family in my home state of Pennsylvania. And then Cupid's arrow struck my tender heart and I stayed in New England.

Now, eleven years later, with a wonderful husband, a new vocation, and one cat, it is time to go. This city has served me well. After seventeen years in New England (four spent in Concord, New Hampshire), I am ready to say goodbye to this city that has given me so much. I am leaving with a loving husband, a wonderful education, and many fond memories, as well as friends. In essence, I grew up here. It is this place that helped me to find my voice in the world, first as an attorney, and now as a creative force that continues to sprout, bloom, and become.

On Saturday, the moving truck will pull out with my family and my life inside. I am looking forward to the new friendships and experiences I will find up North and the continuation of the many cherished friendships I have created here in New England. As I move on, I welcome the rich soil of Michigan's Upper Peninsula, the trees, the water, and the love that I am sure to find there as I continue this journey called life.