A hard day to write this, as I’ve already heard about a case of local election tampering from a reliable source who is generally not aligned with my political outlook. I need both our votes to count.

But a good day to write this, too.

1. I have faith that my prayers are heard, and do not go to some shredder in the sky.
2. I have faith in my own abilities as a witch.
3. I have faith in my abilities as a writer.
4. I have faith in my ability to help others write well.
5. I have faith in my organization skills.
6. I have faith that my organization skills accomplish more with less work than the “let it all fall in place” approach.
7. I have faith that my relatives are not looking to my good, but are only serving to seek their own – with no thought as to the cost to others.
8. I have faith that there is always a way for justice for prevail. It might not be an easy way, or a way I like, but there is always a way.
9. I have considerable faith in my research skills.
10. I have faith in the efficacy of one small thing.

I would like guidance about …

1. becoming zen about all this stuff.
2. pitching some angle of my book to mainstream magazines.
3. Diane von Furstenberg says a woman can do it all, she just can’t do it all at once. I need a little help arranging my order.
4. finding natural ways to assist my allopathic allergy treatments.
5. whether getting a second car is even a good idea.
6. improving my photography.
7. finding a way to slow the hell down.
8. maintaining and strengthening friendships in a time of life when everyone is so freaking busy.
9. staying simple in the midst of complex doings.
10. finding new places, experiences that spark my imagination.

I really passionately believe that the possibilityof failure  (read – not guarantee – oil and water are still oil and water) in no way negates the possibility of success. I’ve come across situations in the past month where I have attempted to start conversations with:

• Imagine
• What if
• Who can YOU talk to or email

I received mass apathetic expressions. Excuses. Repetitions of points already discussed that furthered nothing. “Change is slow,” one woman patronized me. I’m almost 40. I’ve been involved in some form of political activism or another since I was 16. You think I don’t know that?

Change is slow when you sit back and wait for it. However, tipping the domino takes so little effort – one email with a slightly different proposition. One phone call. One “Hey, have you considered?” or “Wouldn’t it be cool if?”

I’ve done this over and over. None of this has happened right away. But it HAS happened.

In high school, I was told I was completely ridiculous for proposing we start mining garbage dumps for recyclable materials.  Landfill mining has actually been happening since 1953 – and is becoming more common now, with research into ways of negating or dealing with the toxic sludge that pools at the bottom of the heap. Perhaps I’m ridiculous, but all visionaries are ridiculous.

I’d rather be silly and ask – because silent and helpless sure isn’t doing anything for these other people. Just because I might NOT get what I want doesn’t mean I shouldn’t ask for what I do. If it doesn’t happen, I can handle it – I’m not a spoiled child, I’m a visionary, imaginative person who will look for a different way to make something good happen.

What I really want to devote myself to is my writing. Wholesale. All of it. Shove everything else aside and just write. Of course, as I know from watching other writers there is no such thing as just writing. Writing involves teaching workshops, doing readings and even sitting on panels at conventions. So when I say writing, I mean devoting myself to the panoply of performance skills, organizational skills and planning skills necessary for any writer who knows that a career involves much more than pushing a book out and waiting as money gets pushed back. Because that last thing just doesn’t really happen anymore. I’m not sure it every really did happen. Even among the famous white authors, it seems like the most famous/successful all benefited from some sort of patron whether it was an unwitting husband or an actual investment by friends and family.

There’s s a founded fear I need to write about elsewhere that comes with this. It’s the fear of becoming too narrow. The Artist’s Way has helped me open myself up in a lot of ways, and I’ve tried more art, made more stuff and become a more committed creative. If I focus I have the benefit of uncluttered simplicity. That focus risks an emotional malnourishment. So striking the balance is the other part of all of this.

There is one area that definitely needs deeper commitment. That is … myself. My own life. I need to commit as thoroughly as possible to my own ever-emergent career as a writer. I have to do something not to “build good karma” as I’ve done plenty of that. I need to start going to open mic nights and showing up at lit events, etc. for myself. My single worst personality trait is my commitment phobia, and it applies to myself most of all.

I love…

1. The feeling that comes after getting rid of stuff. It’s like a weight on my chest evaporates.
2. Finnian’s Rainbow.
3. Sex.
4. My husband.
5. Getting some time alone on a regular basis.
6. That I’m moving.
7. That I got to live here, in a really great apartment.
8. Sunrise.
9. Sunset.
10. Fiddler on the Roof jokes.
11. My friends.
12. That I’m getting to the point where I can stitch some wounds closed.
13. That I’m learning to recognize the ways in which human beings manipulate each other, and helping undo damage to myself and others because of that knowledge.
14. The feeling of silk and satin between my fingers.
15. Candle making.
16. Dancing.
17. Making witchy stuff.
18. Warm quilts.
19. Long naps.
20. Good books.
21. New experiences.
22. Photography walks.
23. Having a good laugh.
24. Nights of mellow conversation.
25. Keeping it all together, whatever it may be.

I love…

1. The feeling that comes after getting rid of stuff. It’s like a weight on my chest evaporates.
2. Finnian’s Rainbow.
3. Sex.
4. My husband.
5. Getting some time alone on a regular basis.
6. That I’m moving.
7. That I got to live here, in a really great apartment.
8. Sunrise.
9. Sunset.
10. Fiddler on the Roof jokes.
11. My friends.
12. That I’m getting to the point where I can stitch some wounds closed.
13. That I’m learning to recognize the ways in which human beings manipulate each other, and helping undo damage to myself and others because of that knowledge.
14. The feeling of silk and satin between my fingers.
15. Candle making.
16. Dancing.
17. Making witchy stuff.
18. Warm quilts.
19. Long naps.
20. Good books.
21. New experiences.
22. Photography walks.
23. Having a good laugh.
24. Nights of mellow conversation.
25. Keeping it all together, whatever it may be.

1. My creativity was sharply stunted and confronted when presented with a coloring book my second day of kindergarten. I had never, ever colored before, and my teacher said something I didn’t quite understand about “of course she’d be a special needs child.”

2. I felt creative when I would sit at the kitchen table and paint, or copy pictures of roses from Better Homes and Gardens by hand, achieving an almost exact replica of the pictures. Or when I’d try to make doll chains that always ended up abstract and unintentional.

3. I wanted to please everyone and be the very BEST and happy while I did it, and be happy at it. I had no idea that for me, pleasing everyone and being happy were mutually exclusive.

4. In my household, creativity was allowed and encouraged until the age of 13, at which point the process of suppression and stifling began for fear creativity would lead us to somehow enjoying sex.

5. I wished that I had the kind of parents that didn’t stigmatize girls in sports. I was a very physical child, and if I’d been exposed to softball, soccer, etc. I would have developed core social skills that I still don’t really have — that absence has cost me in the workplace and elsewhere since “win/lose” is still a hard concept for me to grasp. Also, the lack of sports exposure meant that I was the easy stranger to target in junior high because so few kids had really been exposed to me.

Rich people get to do what they want. To feel rich, just do what you want all day. Mostly for me that’s reading and drawing pictures.