Precious time

So the other day I wondered about this allergy attack I had and what its grand purpose might be. It caused me to miss my first class at NYU. I felt prepared, if nervous, for the class. Nothing extraordinary.

A few days have passed and now I think I get it. I'm supposed to see my time from a different perspective. I had started working fulltime the week of Labor Day. I had signed up for a 3-1/2 hour class two days a week for eight weeks. I was supposed to teach a writing class one night a week. I had three life coaching clients and I was trying to wedge them in between my other obligations. I was also editing copy for my church's website.

Turns out the ripple effect of missing that class is this. I am now assigned to the section that begins in November. It's Mondays and Wednesdays. I won't lose my money that way. But now I can't teach the writing class because there's a schedule conflict. I finished up with a coaching client this week. I withdrew myself from the editing commitment because I just couldn't keep up. I was feeling completely overwhelmed -- things were coming at me too quickly.

Suddenly I feel like my time is mine. October is mine! I'm able to breathe. I have choices, appreciation. I can enjoy the fall. Yeeha.

November will come soon enough. Until then I will revel in this gift.

And so it is.

Low end high

OK, I may as well just say it. I bought a pair of shoes at Payless. I still can't believe it. I cannot stand that cheesy store. And yet ...

So I have a few skirts that can swing from summer to fall. Problem is, I only have sandals to wear with them and I can't bring myself to do open-toe shoes at this point in the year. At least not to work. So I needed transition shoes. Something made me stop in Payless just for the hell of it. And what do I see? Black suede slingbacks with a nice heel and a bow on the front. Exactly what I need. So I put them on and they're as comfortable as can be. They look expensive. Hmmmmm. Too good to be true? I look at the price -- they're $16.99! Are you kidding me? Wrap 'em up.

Frankly, the rest of the selections there didn't do much for me. But I found my gem and made for the register. Already tried them on with the skirts. So great. One little purchase can have a major impact. I love the challenge of that, the creativity of it.

I'll be strutting in them tomorrow morning ...

Sneezy

I had one of the worst allergy attacks of my life today. Best I can trace it to is the very dusty construction happening on our floor at work. We decided to open the doors and windows today because it was so nice outside. But it seems that opened the door to the dust. Next thing I knew, my eyes were itchy and watery and my runny nose began. By lunchtime it was a full-fledged allergy attack with rampant, hard-core sneezing.

Despite shutting the door and turning on the air conditioning, the problem just escalated. My nose became red from blowing it, my eyes were glazed over and my makeup was virtually non-existent. In between, I worked and accomplished a remarkable amount of tasks.

Still, my boss knew I was to begin a class at NYU tonight and told me not to go. I was determined to try, but by 4:30 I knew she was right. No way. Especially after I took a look in the mirror and saw my wreck of a face.

I came home, had chicken soup and lots of fruit. I cranked up the air conditioning. I popped some Sudafed. Here I sit with drippy red nose. Gross.

What does it all mean? Why today? Call me crazy, but it feels like there's a bigger reason for the timing of this. We'll see.

Eyes on the road

I am driving in a blizzard. Focused on what's in front of me. Just doing what I can to see clearly and stay my path. I suspect I know what's ahead, but I can't look that far down the road yet. Both hands are on the steering wheel. The radio is on, but I'm just humming along with it. Too intent on the road to all-out sing.

Driving through this will be such a victory once I come out the other side. I can feel it. Stay the course.

Role model

I love how smart and creative Jodie Foster is. Down-to-earth. Literary. In her art. In her life.

Saw her on The Actor's Studio tonight and enjoyed watching it immensely. She manages to immerse herself in her craft and yet maintain a private life. She's fluent in French. She revealed herself a bit -- the insecurity she felt at having no formal acting lessons, what it was like doing a play at Yale while the John Hinckley debacle was happening.

Foster was featured in the September issue of O magazine, the section called "Reading Room." Each month they ask a celebrity about her favorite books. Foster's list: The Flowers of Evil by Charles Baudelaire, Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison, Cathedral by Raymond Carver, The Complete Greek Tragedies: Euripides, Naked by David Sedaris, Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Marie Rilke.

I particularly like what Foster writes about her Rilke selection:

This is a collection of letters that Rilke wrote to a poet who'd asked for his advice. It's clear that Rilke wants to encourage the younger man, yet he can't help betraying his own disillusionment with the world and his feelings of insignificance. I love how humble Rilke is -- how beaten down by the creative process yet hopeful. I've given this book to a few directors and wrapped each copy in a silk scarf. When I feel like a failure or have doubts about my work, this is the sacred book I take off the shelf and unwrap, very delicately.

Good stuff.

Walking shoes

Had a great walk tonight. Came home from work, swapped my work clothes for bike shorts and sneakers, and took to the waterfront. (Is there anything like the feeling of putting on socks and sneakers after being in heels all day?) The Empire State Building was lit up in blue and red. The skyline was very clear and sparkling.

What a nice backdrop for thinking and taking much-needed deep breaths. Life has been a little stressful lately. I've been feeling a bit upended. Like I have no choice but to just be for a while.

The walk was a welcome respite.

Divine intervention

I'm feeling a force working.

Yesterday I had lunch with Mike. He was in my Artist's Way class about three years ago. He really, really wanted to take a trip to Africa. It was his dream. Well, he emailed me a few weeks ago to ask about having lunch. He had just returned from over a year in Africa. He saw so much, did so much.

As we downed hamburgers, he told me that it was my class that really persuaded him to take the trip. "I was on the edge of the cliff; you gave me the push I needed to just do it," he said with a laugh. "Remember that collage we did? You looked at it and said, 'Mike, there's nothing about New York in this collage. You need to go.' I'll never forget it."

Wow.

Tonight I had dinner with Mary, a former life coaching client and now a friend. I told her that I'm in a transitional period and wondering if I'm handling things correctly and feeling hypocritical about coaching others. I just started working fulltime in a job that has little to do with coaching or writing. Am I derailing myself from my life goals?

Mary reminded me how different her life is since working with me as her coach. She reminded me that I didn't seek out this job; I went to bring a friend lunch and emerged two hours later with a job. She reminded me that I'm being open to possibility, to a company that has enrolled me in a real estate class at NYU. What could be wrong about that?

Wow.

Take a deep breath, Nancy. Chill out. Your philosophy is bold and smart. Stay the course. Yes.

There is purpose to it. Maybe the passion will follow.

Plane drama

I am watching JetBlue Flight 292 circling LAX, burning fuel, as it readies to make an emergency landing. Its front landing gear is bent.

I am filled with dread thinking about those passengers. I cannot imagine having hours, over two hours at this point, to think about that landing. What are they talking about? Are they staying positive? Panicking? Alternating between both? Clutching each other? Making phone calls? Watching those little TVs on board and seeing what's happening around them?

Whew. Oh my God. I have goosebumps. It just landed safely. Those people must be cheering and sobbing like crazy.

Some lives on that plane are dramatically altered. Trust me.

Lunch hour

Almost every day I sit on the steps of F.I.T. and eat lunch near my office. I love the bustle, seeing all the fashion students mulling around, the big portfolios. I wonder what's in those portfolios, whether I'm looking at a rising star.

Meanwhile, I relax, read, talk on the phone, eat a sandwich. It's precious Nancy time. Today it was a fresh issue of New York magazine. Away from the insanity of the office. One hour of escape.

Patterns

Did you ever discover a pattern in your life that just blows you away? I'm amazed by my own self-discoveries, on this day particularly about the kinds of people and situations I attract into my life. And, of course, the why of it all.

An interesting exercise I did recently: Someone mentioned that our friends are a reflection of us, so I looked at my friends and examined what reflects back to me. It was so illuminating. A little scary, truth be told.

Just thought I'd mention it.

Weekend

I feel refreshed and rejuvenated today. I had one of those productive, sort of spiritual days that included a great workout, coffee and journaling at the waterfront, three massive loads of laundry at the laundromat, cleaning the bathroom, grocery shopping, catching up on emails, the New York Times at the waterfront, three healthy meals, a conversation with my mother, a nap ... and it's only 9 p.m.!

It was one of those weekend days that helps put me on track to start work all over again tomorrow. Just what the doctor ordered.

Weary

I feel physically exhausted today. I feel wrung out emotionally. It's just one of those weary days.

A good night's sleep will do wonders. Maybe a trip to the gym in the morning. Some coffee. The New York Times.

Sounds like heaven.

Survey

Today I mailed a survey I received from the Friends of Hillary. I was moved to fill it out thoughtfully. I've been nearly numb on politics, mostly because I have felt helpless watching this administration make one misguided decision after another for years. It's so disheartening.

I want real change. I want common sense. I want a leader who doesn't smirk at inappropriate times. I want our allies back. I want Osama bin Laden captured. I want the FCC to get over itself and leave my entertainment alone. I want to decide what will and will not grow in my uterus. I want conservative Christians to read up on the concept of separation of church and state.

So I filled out a survey. It was something.

Inspiration

My brother sent this to me today. He knows me so well. It made my day. I cannot do it justice. Please read it -- it's a commencement speech by Steve Jobs:

http://news-service.stanford.edu/news/2005/june15/jobs-061505.html

Thanks, John.

The net

I spent the evening with a friend who mentioned one of my favorite quotes:

Leap and the net will appear.

If my life is any indication, it will appear again and again and again. People provide nets. Circumstances provide nets. Open-mindedness provides nets.

I am leaping this fall. Aside from chemistry or maybe trig, I cannot think of a subject that scares me more than real estate. And yet I am enrolled in a class on that very topic at NYU beginning in a few weeks because it is important to my current job that I become better informed on our business. It was an opportunity I could not pass up. How fortunate and terrified I feel. Twice a week, eight weeks -- how bad can it be?

I'm about to fly through the air. Bring on that net ...

My getaway

I had such a great weekend. Went to visit a friend in Baltimore and just enjoyed it so much. She brought me to Hampden and Fells Point and a really cool museum, where we browsed and strolled and happened on a flea market. We took her dog to the park on several occasions and I got a great view of the Inner Harbor in the process.

Of course a key to every good trip is food and boy, did we eat well. On Saturday night I took a luxurious, lavender-scented bubble bath in her great big tub. I watched no TV, looked at no computer screen. It was about good company, wonderful conversation and being in her world for a while.

I have fabulous taste in friends.

No more

No more theories.

No more horrifying footage.

No more swaggering and grinning from our commander-in-chief.

No more nonsense or spinning or finger-pointing.

No more.

Just healing.

9/11

I've been catching some of the Sept. 11 documentaries this week. The goosebumps just keep rising. Thoughts of that day, coming out of the subway about 25 blocks away just around 9 o'clock. One tower had already been hit and the other was about to be.

I watch that footage again and again and again and I still can't believe it. Honestly, I still cannot fathom airplanes being driven into those buildings. I cannot fathom those buildings collapsing. This, despite the fact that every day I look at the Manhattan skyline and know they aren't there. This, despite the fact that almost every week I take the PATH train to the World Trade Center and what it really brings me into is the middle of a big, fat hole in the ground.

I sat on a ferry on what was a gorgeous day from a weather perspective. They filled that three-decker boat for several hours before taking us across the Hudson River to Weehawken. I walked home the mile or so, talking to my mother on my cell phone much of the way.

I was just far enough away from the bedlam to not be in fear for my life. I'm grateful for that. It has also prompted me to make some sweeping changes in my life. I'm grateful for that.

But all those people who thought they were just going to work ... well, it's just so sad.

Hear this

You've seen this attributed to Nelson Mandela. Actually, he was just smart enough to quote Marianne Williamson. In any case, I needed to ingest this today, so here goes:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Twist on money

Went back to the waterfront this afternoon for some solid reading time. Finished The Soul of Money by Lynne Twist and just marveled at its simple, profound message about the connection between money and a fulfilling life.

While I found the anecdotes wonderfully illustrative, Twist's observations in chapter 10 were my favorite part of the book:

"We think we live in the world. We think we live in a set of circumstances, but we don't. We live in our conversation about the world and our conversation about the circumstances. When we're in a conversation about fear and terror, about revenge and anger and retribution, jealousy and envy and comparison, then that is the world we inhabit. If we're in a conversation about possibility, a conversation about gratitude and appreciation for the things in front of us, then that's the world we inhabit."

Yes, yes, yes. I feel I can tell so much about a person based on how they react to life circumstances. And, of course, turning that inward is crucial as well. It has given me pause, as has this poem Twist quotes near the end of the book; its author is Hazrat Inayat Khan.

I asked for strength
and God gave me difficulties to make me strong.
I asked for wisdom
and God gave me problems to learn to solve.
I asked for prosperity
and God gave me a brain and brawn to work.
I asked for courage
and God gave me dangers to overcome.
I asked for love
and God gave me people to help.
I asked for favours
and God gave me opportunities.
I received nothing I wanted.
I received everything I needed.

Joyful expression

My sore throat has persisted for days. This morning I woke up to it feeling a little more raw, a little past the point of annoying. So I started thinking about it in more literal terms. What does it mean? My ability to express is being hindered. I'm physically manifesting frustration at not expressing fully and clearly or, in the case of some topics, at all.

So I slept in, popped some Airborne in a glass of water and drank the fizzy concoction. I showered, a simple act that somehow always makes me feel better. Then I brought The New York Times, a big cup of coffee and my portable chair with the cup holder on the arm to the waterfront and read to my heart's content. There is something about reading others' expression that helps my own spring forth when I'm blocked. There were op-ed pieces by Anne Rice and Richard Ford and, of course, Frank Rich to make me think, smile and wince. Every section, it seemed, had something that spoke to some part of me. The weather was a marvel. What joy.

And then came the writing. I wrote while a homemade marinara sauce simmered on my stove. I wrote after I ate. I'm still writing. I will be for hours. Expressing. Crafting. Releasing.

What joy.

Happy home

This is how I know I live in exactly the right place for me.

This morning I sat on a bench on the waterfront promenade a block from my home and had a cup of coffee. The Manhattan skyline was crystal clear, the breeze refreshing, the atmosphere quiet.

And my very first thought when I sat down was, "This is perfect. It's heaven. I can't believe I live here." I just kept thinking that. I was awed.

Sometimes you just know. Even after nearly seven years.

Only in New York

Maybe it's because I work in Chelsea. Maybe it's because I work near FIT. But here's what happened today.

I was walking on 7th Avenue wearing black jeans and a fuschia t-shirt. A guy was walking towards me, checking me out head to toe. He stopped in front of me, smiled and said, "That color looks great on you."

I smiled -- well, actually laughed -- and said, "Thank you."

To borrow a line from Cindy Adams, "Only in New York, kids, only in New York."

Where is the love?

I am appalled and so I must vent.

Hurricane Katrina was a natural disaster of epic proportions. As we speak, there are countless people working tirelessly to rescue stranded folks. Yes, there are looters. Yes, there are people who stayed despite warnings. But there are a lot of human beings who need help. Period.

And so I'm reading letters to the editor in The New York Post today and all I see is whining, judgmental commentary on other countries not doing enough, on Hollywood not doing enough, on people not helping themselves. Is this productive? Is it humane? How embarrassing that anyone outside of the Northeast would read this and think we all hold these ignorant, tunnel vision views as we sit here in our air-conditioned homes with our families intact.

How about conjuring up a little sympathy? Kindness? Compassion? Where does this mentality of looking only outside of ourselves and pointing a finger come from? It's a crisis! If you can write a check, then write a check. If you're not moved to, then don't.

As if that wasn't enough to set me off, I decide to put on the television and get updated on how things are going in New Orleans tonight. For some insane reason, I opt for Bill O'Reilly because I'm curious how he handles crisis. Now I know.

He reinforced my previous opinion that he is a self-absorbed blowhard who wouldn't know how to conduct an interview if he tried. He has the audacity to speak to a rep from the National Guard in a confrontational way? Right now? When most of those people haven't slept in days? When they've seen unspeakable horrors? Can you imagine the smells they've endured? And some self-congratulatory guy who has, for some reason I'll never understand, secured a primetime forum to bloviate is in this man's face? What an ass.

How about we stick to reporting the news instead of playing Monday morning quarterback? How about just letting the sadness wash over us? Or just experiencing the disbelief? Or counting ourselves as blessed?

Please. Where is the love?