Lifting the fog

I knew I wanted some exercise this morning. I also knew I didn't feel like going to the gym. I immediately thought of a power walk, but it was raining. I looked out the window and saw it was raining steadily, but not pouring. There was no wind. So that is how I came to decide to go for a walk in the rain.

I looped around and around Pier A Park, which juts out into the Hudson River. The Manhattan skyline was mostly shrouded in fog. I put up the hood on my windbreaker and the raindrops made little ping noises on it. Only the diehard runners were out, so the park was quiet and it was easy to get lost in meditation. The more my feet moved, the deeper I went down into myself.

My reward was a big cup of coconut coffee and a date with my journal. Sometimes the stream of consciousness writing that flows off my pen is staggeringly clear and beautiful. That is what I thought as I finished and closed the book.

It seemed my fog, at least, had lifted.

Reading run amok

Some weeks ago I began reading A Return To Love. Suddenly I decided to put it down and pick up The Celestine Prophecy. I can't really explain why. It just felt like a directive, perhaps related to learning more about the kind of book I'm writing or maybe a need to ingest the Marianne Williamson book in small doses.

Anyway, I've now put down The Celestine Prophecy and come back to A Return To Love. This is so unlike me. I'm typically very ordered in my reading. Again, it's hard to explain why, beyond a strong vibe to be reading Williamson again combined with the fact that James Redfield's book is not really holding my interest.

In between, I read a short story given to me by Pamela at the senior center. It's called The Walk and it's by Jose Donoso. What an intriguing, disturbing little story that is. I wish I had been in the discussion group for that one. From what Pamela tells me, Gabriela, a playwright and opera teacher who is also a member of the center, knew the author in younger days and told some wonderful stories.

Who knows what's in store this week on the book front. I'll keep reading Williamson and stay open to other things. And see where it takes me.

Words on paper

I've been reading my book manuscript on my commute. It's a very cool experience, the tactile feel of the paper and my words telling a special kind of story.

It's amazing how a mere figment of the imagination can become a tangible reality in a matter of a few months. Sometimes I read a section and marvel that I wrote it at all. I haven't had that feeling since my days in daily journalism. In that world, you often write something on deadline and then let it go until you wake up in the morning and see it in print along with the other 75,000 people in the circulation area. Whoa.

That kind of experience breeds a certain confidence that if the work isn't top notch on a given day, it might very well be fabulous the following day. It's a great cure for perfectionism.

So I keep turning the pages of the manuscript, thinking of new directions to take the story, finding things that need to be reworked or expanded. I couldn't have imagined how accomplished I'd feel at this stage of the process.

Onward ...

Senior moments

I'm working at the senior center this week. It's so funny, exasperating and stimulating all at once. There is the ever fabulous Bertha, the always intellectual Gabriela, the highly efficient Florence and the delightful Pamela. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Yesterday the art teacher, Carol, shared a book with me. It's called Affirmations For Artists. A sampling:

Luck is where preparation meets opportunity. -- Oprah Winfrey

It is what we fear that happens to us. -- Oscar Wilde

I can hardly wait to see what the senior center has in store for me tomorrow.

Quote happy

Some food for thought that crossed my path today:

I am very depressed and deeply disgusted with painting. It is really a continual torture. -- Claude Monet

Why limit yourself to what has never been before?
Why say 'I can only imagine...'?
Make the dream real, there is no imagination.
-- Melissa Etheridge

Permission

Change challenges me today.

It asks me to go with the flow.

But sometimes the flow feels like too rapid a rate for me.

I need to set my pace.

I must.

Truly, it's OK.

Sylvia

I never turn on the television on Saturday afternoons. I can't remember the last time I did. Before today, that is. I'm not even sure what made me reach for the remote, except that I had peeled an orange and was perhaps seeking out something mindless while I ate it.

At any rate, I happened on the film Sylvia. It is about the life of poet Sylvia Plath and it stars Gwyneth Paltrow in the lead. I missed the first 20 minutes, a particular pet peeve of mine, but I decided to watch anyway. I'm so glad I did, as I haven't been this taken with a movie in a long time.

I knew of Plath and of her marriage to poet Ted Hughes. I knew she killed herself. I have read "Daddy" and "Lady Lazarus." But truly I knew little else about the woman. How very beautiful and sad her story is.

There is a scene where she and Ted are in a boat and they've drifted pretty far out to sea. He appears worried as he rows against the tide. She simply looks thoughtful and recalls a day when she tried to drown in the sea. "It didn't want me," she says flatly.

This takes place at a time when Ted Hughes is an acclaimed poet and she is trying to write. Day after day she sits at the desk and crumbles up paper, turning to the kitchen and using her creative fervor to bake instead. Ted keeps asking why she isn't writing. This day in the boat, he tells her she just needs to pick a subject and stay with it. But that just frustrates her. He continues probing and suggesting. Finally he tells her, "Your subject is you." Ouch. She doesn't see it, at least not yet. A friend of mine knows why this scene resonates with me so. He and I have played out a similar scenario and I've since discovered he is right.

But I digress. Back to Sylvia.

Later in the film, after Ted leaves her, she feels she is finally free despite her love for him and she is writing like crazy. There is a scene where she has just completed "Daddy" and she reads it aloud to a friend. "I really feel like God is speaking through me," she says when she is finished. I was mesmerized by this, for I am very aligned with the idea that our best art comes through us.

Finally, in talking about the woman Ted takes up with when he leaves her, she is matter of fact. It is her greatest fear come true. "Don't you understand? I conjured her. If you fear something enough, you can make it happen."

So wise and so tortured. Brilliant. Flawed. Dead at 30.

I picked up two poetry books from my shelf and immersed myself in the Plath sections for a while, grateful to my orange for getting me there.

Breakfast

At about 8:30 this morning I descended the subway steps. There was a homeless man asleep in an alcove, completely covered in a blanket. Someone had left a shiny apple on the cardboard box that served as his bed.

I wonder how he felt when he woke up and found breakfast.

Knowing for sure

I've always enjoyed the essay in the back of each issue of O magazine. Oprah calls it "What I Know for Sure" and it always dispenses lovely wisdom. That's why I was excited to see a little booklet enclosed in my monthly issue -- it's a compilation of the best of these essays.

I began reading it and this really spoke to me today: Pay attention to what makes you feel energized, connected, stimulated -- what gives you your juice. Do what you love, give it back in the form of service, and you will do more than succeed. You will triumph.

I do. I am. I will.

Feeling altruistic

For so much of my life I did virtually no volunteer work. Now I could literally fill my entire week with volunteerism. Crazy, right?

I want to spend time with the senior citizens at the center. I want to do some pro bono life coaching. I want to help build my church into a fabulous force.

It will all happen. Some of it already is.

Now all I need is a sugar daddy :)

Spiritual irony

On the very day I've experienced an extraordinary victory on my spiritual path, a new pope was chosen. This is so ironic.

I left the Catholic church in the wake of the priest scandal. It was really just a formality, a last straw. I had been disconnected from it for a long time. In the meantime, I found my way to a New Thought church and it is clearly a much better fit. So it was with a bit of distance that I heard earlier in the day the announcement of the new conservative hardliner that will be ruling the Catholic church. If I hadn't left already, this would have sent me running for the hills.

Tonight was the 11th in a 12-week course I'm taking at the Sacred Center for Spiritual Living. We did an in-class exercise that required writing a letter to God and then writing a response, all stream of consciousness. It was a wonderful touchstone for me, a chance to see how far I've come and how all my hard work has paid off. I'm in awe of how vibrant I feel and how connected to spirit in a profound way.

That's my reason for celebrating today.

Web presence

I just passed the 1,000 milestone on visits to this blog. It feels great. I'm just egotistical enough to enjoy the heck out of it.

In addition, my friend Roger launched my new website today. Check it out!!!!!!

www.nancola.com

Emerging

I think I've just come through one of those periods in life I'll call a "winter." How timely that my personal "spring" has sprung just in time for the 70-degree weather. Fabulous.

It was, in some ways, an excruciating week. I'm not sure why, exactly. But unmistakably I have emerged feeling fresh and renewed. Yippee. The rewards of some emotional heavy lifting, I presume.

In tandem with all of this, I began reading The Celestine Prophecy today. It was calling from my shelf, where it's been sitting for nearly a year. Already I'm absorbed. Already I'm intrigued by why it was beckoning me at exactly this time.

I'll know soon enough.

The "L" word

I've thought a lot about love today. Giving it. Receiving it. How that all works exactly.

Some days it just feel elusive ...

It's a manuscript!

I love my book! Have I said that yet? It's moving along so nicely. I just did a printout and evaluated it on the printed page. What a great feeling. It's a real live manuscript. There's a story arc document, a characters list and the book itself. It'll be in two parts because somehow it divided itself that way organically in my mind.

One thing I'm learning to do regularly is write sections that occur to me, even if they're going to be placed near the end of the book. So there are pieces that I've created as separate components from the main narrative. A series of events happened to me today, for example, that I was moved to put in the book. I wrote it while it was all fresh.

This is just too much fun for one person.

Ice cream

I asked a friend to be my partner in crime next Tuesday. You see, it's Free Cone Day at Ben & Jerry's, which is less than a block from my apartment. It's been open for about three months and I've only been there once.

So I email my friend, a healer and personal trainer, and ask him if he wants to wander over for the big bargain next week. His response made me laugh out loud. Basically, he concocted a whole tongue-in-cheek scenario where we go back repeatedly wearing different clothes. It gave me pause -- I mean, is it that important to save the three or four bucks? But it sounds fun, you know?

Bring on the Coffee Heath Bar Crunch.

Physical therapy

Sometimes there is no better therapy than a good weight-lifting session. When I feel powerless or out of sorts, I like to feel my own strength as I do bicep curls or work the fly machine.

This morning my mind was awhirl with issues and concerns. With each movement, I felt like I was working through something in such a natural, healthy way.

I walked out of the gym feeling nearly resolved.

Nurturing

I skipped class tonight. Took a walk along the waterfront instead. There's nothing like the feel of sneakers after being in heels all day. Bought some gourmet green olives. Relaxed. Watched reruns of Sex and the City.

Sometimes the Girl Scout sitting on one shoulder needs to be overruled by the self-nurturer sitting on the other. This was one of those times.

Good for me.

Investing in spirit

I made a commitment today. It feels very big. Exhilarating, even.

I've decided to get more involved in building the Sacred Center for Spiritual Living into what it has the potential to be. I have a lot to offer as a volunteer and my passion for its New Thought message is strong and enduring. I attend Sunday service every week and feel spiritually nourished when I walk out the door. And I think it has been a well-kept secret in New York for way too long.

There. I've put it out to the universe. I'm off and running.

Spring in my step

I love breaking into spring colors, especially in the city. Light blue trench. Pink purse. Silk scarf in light blue, pink, peach and fuschia (purchased in a vintage store last year) pulling it all together. Swingy earrings.

It puts bounce in my step. Gives me attitude. I like it.

Good day

I love a day that tidily and enjoyably includes writing significant chunks of my book and also spending time with family for my father's birthday. Fun and productive. What a combo.

I left early this morning, stopping first in a cafe to write my morning pages. Then it was off to the train station. I brought the laptop and worked on the way, first organizing my story arc/outline sheet and then working on the manuscript.

Upon arrival at my parents' house, my sister and I took Dad out to lunch, always an interesting gabfest. I appreciated it all the more because a fair number of people close to me have lost their fathers in the last year. Then later things livened up when my niece (20 months) and nephew (3) were in the house. Mom, much to her delight, fed me, siblings and spouses dinner and then served up a kick-butt birthday cake with cream cheese icing. (Yes, it's all about the food -- we're Italian!)

On the train ride home, I worked another hour and a half on the book. It felt great. The ideas are just pouring out, coming through me just the way the best creativity does. It's heady.

A perfect balancing act of a day.

Joy and martinis

Last night I went to a going away party for a client. She left Miramax to take a job with Martin Scorcese and her co-workers were seeing her off in style at the Tribeca Grand Hotel. It was good to see her beaming.

From the outset, I was on a mission to have a martini. It all came about because of a clairvoyant friend who, earlier in the week, told me to have one. I said, "Can I have a Cosmopolitan instead?" and he said, "No, I want you to have a real martini because I want you to bite into the olive and experience its pungent taste and associate it with bringing joy into your life."

I proceeded to have a fun exchange with the bartender about it. She suggested a dirty martini since the idea was to focus on the olive. Then she handed me my drink with three olives in it.

I toasted my life and savored each one.

Sparkle

Imagine my surprise when I received an envelope in the mail today which felt a little bit cushy. When I opened it, I found a folded up paper towel and this note:

Okay, I couldn't help myself. I just had to send you this paper towel. Yes, paper towel! Is this not your philosophy in coaching?

Here's what the towel says:

I can't change the direction of the wind, but I can adjust my sails to always reach my destination.

Not only do I love the quote, but I love having friends who think of me when they see something that is so clearly up my alley. It makes me feel loved and appreciated and thought of. So sweet and poignant.

I am prosperous.

Musings

Some things I find interesting:

-- The amount of conversations I've had with people who see me reading Life of Pi. Everyone that approaches me has either read it or is poised to read it and there seems to be an insatiable curiosity from all of them about what "others" think.

-- That I'm taking a prosperity class where the affirmation I set in January is actually happening. It goes like this: I will bring my wisdom and writing to the masses. And so I am.

-- That a client I met with today called coaching "magical" because of all the things she is accomplishing. I couldn't have said it better myself.

-- The ad slogan on the postcard I received in the mail from The New School: "Can your 'next life' begin during this one?" How fabulous is that? So fabulous I wish I had thought of it first because it's perfect as a life coaching slogan.

That's all.

Being a volunteer

I went to volunteer some time at the senior center today. My intent was to help write or edit or do something else administrative. But when I arrived I realized the people who could assign me something to do were in a long meeting.

So I wound up in the cafe interacting with some of the members of the center with whom I had developed relationships when I worked there. I talked with Bertha over tea and realized this was why I was there today. To dispense some wisdom, to listen, to share. I had a few laughs with Pamela and told her about a moment she and I had a few weeks ago that I included as an anecdote in my book. It was simply wonderful.

When the meeting of the staff finally dispersed, I was already on my way out the door heading to an appointment. The executive director caught me and apologized for not using my time better.

Truth be told, I liked it just fine the way it was.

Giving it up

Last week in the class I'm taking we talked about surrender. It's a spiritual class centered around prosperity. I absorbed the lesson like a sponge, particularly because I feel like it's one I'm just learning to practice in my life.

A few days later, my 12-week Artist's Way class ended and the final chapter had a bit about surrender. Very synchronous.

The next day, I emailed my monthly newsletter. I wrote a message about -- you guessed it -- surrender. How it has such a negative connotation in our society but that it has its place and merits.

Yesterday I went to church and before the service was chatting with a guy I've become friendly with. He's a tarot card reader and just a sweet, sweet person. He told me I was in his meditation this week, that he saw two sumo wrestlers going at it and that they kept getting heavier and heavier the more they wrestled. He said, "Nancy, please stop wrestling with whatever it is you're wrestling with." I was a bit stunned, but then smiled and asked if he'd seen the theme of my newsletter. He hadn't. I told him it was about surrendering. Then he smiled.

This morning I was reading Life of Pi on my way to an appointment in the city. A boy and a bengal tiger are on a lifeboat in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The story is simply amazing. What he does to survive is mindblowing. Suffice to say there is a whole lot of surrendering going on.

I came home and made a phone call I've been wrestling with. The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering around like mad. I dialed the number. I surrendered. I spoke my plain truth. The person on the other end was gloriously receptive, understanding and kind.

I hung up the phone and cried for what felt like an eternity. Pure joy.

Love those Housewives

Desperate Housewives is simply delicious. I mean, really, it's irresistable. Wisteria Lane may look idyllic, but what a nightmare to live there. Gossip, triangulating, entitlement, greed, cattiness. Toxic in real life, but fabulous in entertainment.

There's a certain irony to beginning my Sunday in an environment rich in spirit and ending it by watching a show where the characters act in a way I'd never want to. This morning I heard a powerful sermon about prayer. This evening I'm getting a lesson in manipulation.

Unbeatable combo.

Redesign

I've been working with my friend Roger on creating a new website and it's really close to done. I keep looking at it, the way you keep checking out a new car when you first buy it or a new outfit that makes you feel like a million.

I wanted to keep my logo -- a black-and-white image of a hand holding a Gerbera daisy. I have a fond memory of choosing that with the very cool couple -- Erin and Peter -- that designed my current website. Just the daisy petals provide a burst of color, yellow with a tinge of green. Now that image will have new life topping a website with more room to accommodate things like my blog, my monthly newsletters and press clippings.

So now Roger is working on a home page issue we've been wrestling with. Once that's done, it's time for a soft launch. Stop the presses!

Showers of inspiration

While I'm not exactly thrilled tomorrow is supposed to be rainy and dreary, part of me likes it just fine. I'll be spending the bulk of the day writing and it's something of a romantic notion to be holed up in my warm, cozy apartment pounding on the computer keys while raindrops pelt the windows.

I love being immersed in a writing project that feels so in synch with my life and my spiritual philosophy. I am giving birth to something special, of that I am certain. It has (finally!) become a labor of love.

The frig is stocked with fruit salad and cheese, the cupboards with crackers and tea. Sounds like a plan.

Bring on the April showers.