Customer service

I was minding the bookstore today. A homeless man came in. He frequents the store, likes the 25-cent books on the sale rack and always has lots to say about the authors he likes. Today he was particularly focused on true crime books. I listened attentively, helping customers and processing books as he told stories.

Soon all the other customers were gone and it was just him and me. He kept talking. It was getting near closing. Something made me look down. There was a puddle under his chair. His pants were soaked. I froze for a minute.

As pleasantly as I could I told him it was time for me to close the store and that he needed to leave. I could now smell the urine. I tried not to breathe. (As my brother is reading this post he's wondering how his queasy, wimpy sister could possibly handle this.) After much prodding from me, he finally left, putting a quarter on the counter for the book he'd found.

I cleaned up, sprayed some air freshener and hoped I didn't hurt his feelings.

Birthday banter

It's my birthday. I went to the gym this morning and told that to the woman who works there. I then challenged her to guess my age. Pathetic attempt to boost my ego, I know. But it worked. She guessed 35 to 38. I smiled and told her I'm 43. Yeeha.

Funny thing about the gym. I used to take the day off from working out because it was my birthday. Now I go to the gym because it is my birthday. Interesting shift.

Then I wrote my morning pages. They were very meditative today (that's not always the case). I decided on my present to me: I will do everything in my power to be true to me, to attract abundance of every kind, to give to others in creative and loving ways.

As always, I strive to stay inspired and motivated to fulfill my life's purpose. This week I seem to be getting a heavy dose of inspiration from a television show -- The Actor's Studio. I just love hearing success stories. Barbra Streisand talked about all the naysayers around her when she started out. It was hard work and determination (well, OK, there was some talent involved) that made her who she is today. Then there's John Travolta. He's always been confident and discriminant and he talked a lot about "due diligence." Now the Bravo network is showing the coming attractions for this weekend and the guest is Morgan Freeman. In one clip, he talks about how close he came to quitting but then "the dark turned to light." Fabulous!

Work hard. Stay the course. Have faith. I can handle that.

Working a room

I had to make a presentation this morning at my networking group meeting. We meet every Tuesday at 7 a.m. at a diner. Mornings aren't my best time of day to say the least and it was roughly 25 degrees this morning, so I found this particularly challenging. However, I took the 12-block walk to the diner and it really invigorated me. The presentation was a breeze!

There's something about public speaking lately that really jazzes me. At times I still get the shake in my voice but I usually work through it very early into the speech. The last few times I've prepared to speak I've analyzed those who I find effective, people who can really work a room, and listed what I think makes them so compelling. These are the three big keys for me: 1. Passion for the topic, 2. Knowledge of the topic, and 3. Little, if any, reference to notes.

I applied all three of those things today. I began by asking everyone to list three things they want to do before they die. Then I challenged them to create an action plan to make those things happen. What is the five-year plan? Three-year? One-year? What can you do this month to further the goals? This week? This day? This hour?

Then I listed the diverse goals I've helped my clients achieve. Then I read a testimonial from a client who got a book and film deal shortly after meeting with me. It was a fun presentation. I felt great. I fielded some good questions. I received positive feedback.

Hopefully those referrals will start rolling in.

Anger management

I've been trying to deal with some deep-seated anger the past 24 hours. It's been building, I suppose. Unfortunately I took it out on someone I love. Isn't that always the way?

This is one of those imperfections that doesn't have to be. I know it's human to lash out at those closest to us. Yet I see it as an excuse for bad behavior. I don't like being on the receiving end, so why expect people I care about to put up with it from me?

Bottom line, I can't take it back. So my best move is to make sure I feel the anger and then channel the energy into something positive and constructive. That's where I am as I write this. Julia Cameron wrote with flair on this topic in The Artist's Way:

Sloth, apathy and despair are the enemy. Anger is not. Anger is our friend. Not a nice friend. Not a gentle friend. But a very, very loyal friend. It will always tell us when we have been betrayed. It will always tell us when we have betrayed ourselves. It will always tell us that it is time to act in our own best interests.

Anger is not the action itself. It is action's invitation.

Invitation accepted.

Critter wisdom

I started this blog back in October with a story about a centipede. This week I have a mouse story. I think they're related.

Let me begin by sharing my irrational fear of mice. I just can't deal with the sight of them. Not even on TV. I don't like to hear stories about them because then I have nightmares. It's extreme, really.

A few months back, the minister at my church told a story about her irrational fear of mice. She saw them everywhere. One day, a day she remembers very clearly, she decided definitively that she would put the fear aside. That is the day she knew she would -- despite her fierce resistance -- start a church. I listened to this story with interest and, frankly, skepticism. What did the two have to do with each other?

Now back to this week. I'm doing some work at a local used bookstore. A few days ago I was watching the store while the manager took the afternoon off. A volunteer was in the back room. I was sitting at the register in the front of the store, helping customers and peacefully working on the computer as Abba entertained us on the stereo. At one point I saw the volunteer and another woman looking at the floor in the back room. I knew it was a mouse before I even heard them speak.

"Look, it's convulsing. It must have eaten some of the poison."

"Oh my God. Look. It's thrashing."

I got up and started talking to myself, "I don't want to see it, I don't want to see it, I really don't want to see it." There was a young couple sitting in the store reading. The guy, who appeared to be about 18, stood up and said he'd handle it. I almost kissed him, told him that his efforts would be much appreciated.

He attempted to pick it up with a plastic bag but it scurried away. Then it stopped again and died. I was still in the front of the store saying, "I don't want to see it." But lo and behold, my young hero decides the best thing to do is kick its dead body out the door like a soccer ball. Right by me. As I live and breathe. He kicked it all the way to the curb.

An hour or so later I went out to help a woman carry in boxes of books she was donating. There was the dead mouse lying in the street. I saw it on the first trip and then on the next as we unloaded her trunk. I saw that mouse, like it or not.

So are you getting the big picture yet? The more I said "I don't want to see it" the more the universe said, "You need to see it. Right in front of you. It's a harmless little thing. What is this really about? Look at it!"

OK, OK. The next day I was in the store again and needed to go into the basement. I was scared. I know I'm a ninny. But I was genuinely afraid to venture down the stairs. I finally gave in to my trepidation and went down there. Needless to say I'm alive to tell about it.

So now let's go back to the centipede. Staring that fear down led to several breakthroughs, including this blog. This week, as I head into a new year, celebrate another birthday and work my way through a particularly challenging time, I think of the minister and her mouse story. She started a church which inspires me every week.

I can feel my own seismic shift happening. I strive to inspire others as well. The mouse is pushing me to go above and beyond my usual mettle and determination. It's telling me I have to stretch like never before and stay the course. Stay in action. Keep pushing myself like crazy. Shed the fear like a layer of skin.

There's no other way.

Food for thought

Christmas Eve has come and gone. It's my mother's birthday. We had ice cream cake.

Tomorrow the nicely wrapped presents will be ripped open and enjoyed. My niece and nephew will make the day a little more special. We'll have antipasto, stuffed mushrooms, lasagne (with little meatballs), steak and salad. It'll be followed by homemade cookies, little cheesecake cupcakes and coffee ice cream with caramel sauce and whipped cream.

In a blink it'll be over. Then we'll usher in a new year.

Train of thought

I have come to treasure the two-hour train ride to my parents' house. It's a direct train from Hoboken to the Jersey Shore; since it originates in Hoboken, where I live, I can simply walk five blocks, buy a ticket, put my luggage overhead and then settle in with a good book or my journal. The last few times, I've taken the laptop and worked on my book. There's nothing like a nice window seat, plenty of room to spread out (if the train isn't crowded), and the chance to concentrate on nothing but my art.

Today I wrote and wrote as town after town went by my window. I streamlined some things. Got in a groove.

My Christmas present to me.

Money matters

I've been thinking a lot about my relationship with money. It's complicated. Prior to becoming self-employed, I worked for "the man" and did pretty well. I bought shoes, traveled and went out to dinner. I gave good gifts.

Now it's different. I'm on a path that calls for sacrifice in the short term in order to see the fruits of my labor in the long term. It's testing my patience. It's making me look closely at things like how much I spend on coffee. Yuck.

And yet it is strangely liberating to know exactly where I am and where I need to be. My big financial picture, so to speak. And the deeper effects are unquestionable. I no longer require shopping as a quick emotional fix. I am making a concerted effort to embody spiritual principles around all types of abundance. It feels really good.

I should add that the support in varying degrees from family, friends and acquaintances has been tremendously gratifying. I feel very loved. It is proof that the universe finds ways to support your dream.

You simply have to ask.

Book notes

I started gaining steam on my book today. That's significant because the process has been filled with stops and starts. I had an idea. It began as part fiction, part non-fiction. Now it appears it will be what I'll call unconventional fiction.

Confused?

Because it's part social commentary, part self-help and part story, I think I like the idea of the freedom fiction affords me. It will allow me to use some fact and some fabrication and blend it all together seamlessly. Love that!

So my main character has a name and she's starting to develop a personality. I'm sweetly challenged by her, by bringing her to life and drawing others into her quirks and irreverence.

Stay tuned ...

Endearing qualities

I've been doing some work in a local used bookstore. Part of my job is to assess the value of the books donated by the community. I was happy to find a copy of SARK's Eat Mangoes Naked today while going through a crate of contributions. Especially happy because it was in mint condition, but was an uncorrected proof so it had no value to the store. I brought it home.

Here are a few lines from the book that immediately struck me:

We so often try to present our ideal or best selves to the world. Let me invite you into the pleasures of sharing your fragile, wrinkled, dented, tiniest self! I assure you, it's what people find most endearing about you.

I hope she's right. I've been trying to do that more and more in this blog. I seem to naturally find zen in the ordinary a lot of the time, but wouldn't you just puke if it was all of the time? Sure you would. So, as I sit here in my way-too-precious PJ's with the coffee cups all over them (hey, it's below zero here with the wind chill), let's see what I can tell you that's not part of my "best" self.

Lately I've been wanting to delve deeper into my spirituality from an intellectual perspective, basically become more well-read on it. However, last night I realized that I really don't want to do any heavy lifting; I want to be spoon-fed. I shared this with a friend who patiently explained that getting into the material is a big part of the learning. Sad, right? He was polite, but barely disguised his incredulity. I think he's getting used to my dance, though. Resistance is almost always followed by due diligence and taking a real bite out of something.

I also work hard to have patience, but don't always succeed. But let's save that for another day, shall we? No need to 'fess up to all my endearing qualities at once.

Sundays

There was a lot to take in at church today and I think I succeeded in letting it seep slowly from my head to my heart. What I love about New Thought is that it requires personal responsibility. That can be very disconcerting when things aren't going well, but it's also empowering when you're ready to turn things around. Because only YOU can.

Every week without exception the service inspires me and serves as a point of reference for my whole week. It refreshes my spirit and heightens my awareness of things like destiny and manifestation and abundance. Not the material concept of abundance I once had, but the kind that overwhelms me when I stop long enough to let it wash over me.

Today there was a lesson in listening, really letting life breathe and flow organically. It makes for markedly different results than the alternative. There's so much sense and simple wisdom in that. There were quotes from Jesus, Ralph Waldo Emerson and a poet whose name escapes me at the moment. That's another thing I love. On any given Sunday, I can hear a tale from the Brothers Grimm, wisdom from Plato or Lao-Tzu or Ernest Holmes.

I continue to work on not just processing what I hear on Sundays but embodying it. I am ever-present, ever-evolving. Head to heart. Dare I say, soul?

Half-baked

Here I sit once again in Leisure Village. Today was the annual cookie-baking day for me, Mom and Sis. Actually, Sis does very little but read a magazine and chat while Mom and I do all the work. Then she wants to know why she can't eat half the batch that we just labored over. But this is all part of the tradition and we find comfort in it and we have a load of fun, too. We can't wait to see where niece Gina fits into the scenario. Being just 16 months old, she slept through most of the festivities today.

So now we have Michigan rocks (dates and walnuts), chocolate chip, walnut balls, Secret Kiss cookies, thummies (shortbread w/preserves), and macadamia nut. I love this. I'm not all that domestic, but this tradition really connects me to my creativity and to my mother. We even have the annual argument over whose cookies are too big or too small or uneven or whatever, but it all comes out in the wash, so to speak.

Hmmmmmm ... those Michigan rocks are calling me.

Flying high

I went to see a screening of The Aviator today. One of the perks of self-employment and living so close to Manhattan is that I can attend a preview at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. My friend and I walked into the Broadway Screening Room in daylight and walked out to find the nighttime version of Times Square in all its neon glory.

So I learned a lot about the life of Howard Hughes. I was inspired by his fierce determination and will to get something done no matter the cost, the man hours, the often enormous risk to his fortune and reputation. His faith in his ideas was so strong and his OCD was such a vital part of the picture. I enjoyed Leonardo DiCaprio in the role and found some of the flying scenes astounding. And, of course, any chance to see a piece of Kathryn Hepburn's life is a bonus. Hats off to Mr. Scorcese.

This was the kind of day where I realize how much I love my life. I was productive in the morning and that gave way to a good flick, good company, good dinner. Now here I sit being productive again.

Nice.

The Artist's Way

I've decided to teach a course based on the book, The Artist's Way, for the first time in a year. Something just told me to start sending out the word to my mailing list and the rest would fall into place.

This book has really helped me set my life on a new, meaningful course and I'm always excited about sharing it. Plus, each time I teach it I feel like I get even more out of it. I don't know if I could do it justice in a blog entry. Author Julia Cameron brilliantly takes the reader through 12 chapters of plain-spoken, insightful writing and probing exercises. Taking the course has been life-altering for my past students.

I think having the year off from teaching it gave me just the distance and perspective I needed to offer it again. I feel like I'll be approaching it from a fresh, renewed place. My enthusiasm seems to be contagious, as I've had some very interested inquiries and already have two official signups.

I can hardly wait to get started.

Sweet bloggin'

Yesterday I was talking to a friend about this blog. He told me how much he enjoys reading it. It seems a lot of people are telling me that lately. I told my friend how much I appreciated his feedback. Then I wondered aloud if someone who doesn't know me would have the same reaction. Today I got my answer.

This from a fellow blogger:
Your posts, put together, would make a beautiful book!

Thank you, fellow blogger.

Thank you, Universe, for the sign I asked for.

Let's be clear. I blog for me, because it makes me feel connected to my art and it's a priceless form of expression. But knowing it touches others, that it holds their interest enough to come back for more, is sweet indeed.

Managing the mayhem

Manhattan was a madhouse today. Some friends and I left church, started walking, and found ourselves smack in the middle of Rockefeller Center. The Christmas tree was big and impressive. The Au Bon Pain we were heading for was packed.

So we walked some more, looking for a nice coffee spot that wasn't standing room only. Not thinking, we gravitated towards Times Square. Duh. Not exactly the place to go to get away from the bustle.

And yet we did. In a Starbucks, no less. It was crowded, but we landed a good table and created our own space. I treasure these times. We touched on today's church sermon about tapping into our greatness, Eleanor Roosevelt, and saying yes to life no matter who's knocking at the door. The guy at the next table was reading Women As Lovers and we wondered if it was a pickup ploy. We talked about our art, our work, our goals.

I guess you could say we were in the moment, in the mayhem.

The Way

More blessings today. I can hardly take them all in. It almost physically hurts.

I read the entire Tao Te Ching on a train today. So many passages spoke to me I couldn't keep track. Here's the one that stands out (from verse 15):

Do you have the patience to wait
till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
till the right action arises by itself?

This morning I was at the laundromat at 7 a.m. I met a woman there. Her name was Ching. I pulled the Tao Te Ching out of my bag and asked her if she knew it. She didn't, but was excited to see her name on the cover. I read her verse 9 and she nodded in agreement. Here it is:

Fill your bowl to the brim
and it will spill.
Keep sharpening your knife
and it will blunt.
Chase after money and security
and your heart will never unclench.
Care about people's approval
and you will be their prisoner.

Do your work, then step back.
The only path to serenity.

Amen.

Sometimes

Abundance doesn't always come from the black or the white. Sometimes it comes from the gray.

Love doesn't always come in the form of diamonds or flowers. Sometimes its grandness is in the smallest of gestures.

A hug doesn't always require physical touching. Sometimes beautiful energy surrounds us in its own tight embrace.

That is what I learned today.

Memory lane

My journal entry from January 8, 1987:

It's funny how I was questioning myself all week on why I left Carter-Wallace. I may have been miserable, but I would have had money. Then I got my grades in the mail -- a 4.0!! What a feeling.

Wow. Carter-Wallace is the place I worked as a clerk before quitting to go back to college fulltime. Journaling is so powerful in how it lets us go back instantly to another place in our lives. I didn't remember that particular juxtaposition of emotions until I reread that passage last night. So much has changed and yet sometimes I wonder.

I love how the triumph comes on the heels of the dejection. We all know it happens the other way around, too.

It's called life.

Dancing queen

Dirty Dancing is on. Man, I love that movie. Good music. Great dancing. Happy little storyline. I'm one of those people who has watched it a million times. Yes, Baby, lose that virginity to the sizzling but brooding Johnny. Dance your butt off.

I have a thing for dancing in movies. It's an escape. Pure entertainment. Give me Grease, Saturday Night Fever, Chicago. (As I write this, a friend of mine is meeting John Travolta. Do I want to smack him or what?)

I went dancing for the first time in a while with two friends last week. It was so much fun! Actually I've been out dancing more times this year than I had been in the last five years combined. It's like I've reconnected with the rawness of just letting yourself move to the beat. There's nothing like it. I lose myself. My all-time favorite is dancing to 70s and 80s stuff like Michael Jackson or Abba or Madonna.

Ooooooohhhh. I can't wait to go again. Probably in a few weeks. In the meantime I'll settle for unleashing some moves in my house to release some stress. Maybe some Ricky Martin. Look out. There's no stopping me.

Nobody puts Baby in a corner.

Entitlement

So lately in my meditation I've been exploring the idea of entitlement and my apparently large dose of it that needs to be tempered. Methinks since I put myself through school oh so many years ago and because I've had a successful career in journalism that I should be able to do whatever I set my mind to. It's what I've always done with rewarding results, right?

So I should be able to make my coaching business fly in the blink of an eye. So I should be steadily steeped in freelance assignments. So I should be able to supplement my income with some part-time holiday work. How hard could that be, I thought? I temped for tuition, worked as a cashier, receptionist, clerk. Who wouldn't want to hire my fine self?

Well, wake up, sister. It's a whole new world. You are over-qualified and not particularly appealing as an employee to the retail folk. There are lots of qualified, smart, resourceful people with years of retail experience who can step in and get the job done. The Red Sea ain't parting for you any time soon. Get over it.

Here's my message from the universe: You will continue to be successful but it's going to take a heaping portion of persistence and an extra big dose of humility. This is your journey. Stay the course. The alternative isn't pretty. The reward is priceless.

Plus, you'll need something to talk about on your book tour.

Adornation

You are the ornaments on your Christmas tree. Below are the ones you can find on mine. So what do they say about me?

A sparkly pink fish with big lips
A sparkly red octopus with big lips
A Waterford crystal champagne flute
A Madonna-like red and black bustier on a dress form
The Eiffel Tower
Betty Boop on a Harley
A starfish
A cup and saucer that says "Nancy's Cappuccino"
A pink phone
A typewriter
A bottle of nail polish
A disco ball
A Barbie wardrobe case
A woman in a bubble bath with a book
A pink cocktail with an umbrella
A compact with a lip imprint on the mirror
An argyle vest
A piece of candy
A leopard dress form
A red ball with pink hearts
A red metallic heart
A gold and cream heart
A daisy
A chandelier
A funky chair with pink legs
A zebra-patterned ornament shaped like a top
A platform shoe
Several Christmas trees
Several Santas
Several vintage striped balls and bells from my childhood tree

Topped with a mermaid decked in silver that I made in Taos, New Mexico in 2001

I love it!!!!!

Shopping fantasy

One of my favorite TV shows is What Not To Wear. Tonight they took me on a fantasy ride. Usually the show's hosts whisk someone away to New York and give him or her a Visa card worth $5,000 to buy a new wardrobe. The one condition is that they must give up their current wardrobe.

Tonight, though, they awarded a trip to Paris and a $50,000 card to a very lucky woman. I was flabbergasted watching this show. I mean, imagine walking into an Armani store and just dropping cash at the sight of something fabulous. The Moschino store had a chandelier made of glass slippers. So luxurious!

In the Christian Lacroix store, they had laid out countless outfits in her size and reserved the entire second floor salon for her. After she picked what she liked, they tailored everything to fit perfectly. I'm salivating over here. I'm not kidding. And don't get me started on the shoes.

The hosts asked the woman if she can remember the first time she dropped real money on a piece of clothing or an outfit. That got me thinking about my white linen suit trimmed in gold and the gold pumps I wore with it. (It was the sparkly 80s, so cut me some slack.) It was the greatest feeling to wear that ensemble. So fitted and well-made and sexy.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh ...

OK, I've now lived vicariously through that woman and enjoyed every minute of it.

Did someone say Pucci?

I am

I am free.
I am love.
I am good.
I am beauty.
I am smart.
I am courageous.
I am resourceful.
I am blessed.
I am joyful.
I am in a place of transformation.
I am in transition.
I am gaining momentum toward my greatness.
I am an author.
I am a writer.
I am talented.
I am gifted.
I am a visionary.
I am a good listener.
I am a caring, effective coach.
I am love.
I am determined.
I am driven.
I am stubborn.
I am power.
I am power.
I am power.
I am abundant.
I am thankful.
I am humble.
I am hardworking.
I am healthy.
I am spiritual.
I am loved.
I am nurtured.
I am nurturing.
I am strong.
I am admired.
I am intuitive.
I am abundant.
I am spiritual.
I am blessed.
I am beautiful.
I am guided by the universe.

Coaching for a living

I've been thinking a lot about life coaching today, probably because yet another person asked me how I survive in the New York metropolitan area on just a coaching practice. Well, the answer is, "it's not easy."

Here's what I know. It's my calling. It's highly rewarding. My clients are doing inspiring things with their lives. It's a growing field. I am thankful every day that I saw an ad in The New York Times for a training program three years ago and followed through. Once most people try it, they thrive.

Here's what else I know. It's challenging to market myself because a lot of people don't understand the concept of coaching. A lot of people who need it and long for it cannot afford it. There are a lot of misconceptions about it, especially as it's portrayed in the media. There is an ebb and flow to getting and keeping clients and, therefore, an ebb and flow in cash flow.

This is all reality.

Here's even more that I know. Life coaching has added a dimension to my writing. It accounts for a good portion of the book I'm writing. It is the heart and soul of this blog. It will be the heart and soul of a column very soon. It lines up beautifully with my spiritual path.

Bottom line, I keep plugging away, confident that making ends meet or struggling altogether is just part of the journey to the next level. I see the upward trajectory, not always in my checking account but in my personal and professional growth. Those two things are inextricably linked. The financial trajectory is to follow. I am making it happen just the way I guide my clients -- baby steps, faith, action, persistence.

And at the very worst of times, I count on a friend to play me a song from a classic TV show over the phone, "You're gonna make it after all ..."

You've got to love him.

Homefront

I put up my Christmas tree last weekend. I was compelled to do it early in the season and now I see why. It gives me a feeling of serenity. When the little white lights are lit, there is a sweet, homey aura in my living room.

Part of the appeal is the cleaning and clearing of space. It improves flow. But there's more. I'm feeling particularly sentimental about my home these days. I've lived here six years now. If I crane my neck just right as I look out my bedroom window, I can tell you the Empire State Building is lit in green and red tonight and it's absolutely smashing. Out my living room window I see a church with lovely stained glass windows.

I remember seeing an Oprah episode once where she said ideally your home should reach out and welcome you when you walk through the front door. I feel that so strongly in my apartment. It is a high compliment when friends tell me how much warmth and personality my place has. I adore the red accents everywhere.

I'm within two blocks of a well-developed waterfront, complete with promenade. When I'm not walking, there are buses, trains, ferries and cabs at my disposal. A variety of restaurants, cafes, parks, and fun shops are just steps away from my front door.

Tomorrow I'll be showing a friend around town. She's thinking of moving here. I'll try not to gush, but it won't be easy.

I can't imagine living anywhere else.

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.

~ Mary Oliver ~