Power in the Blood

While walking to one of my gigs, I saw a nice stack of magazines on a stoop in Park Slope. I went through them and found Bust magazine bust.com and Edible Brooklyn ediblebrooklyn.com. I gathered up about ten, mainly Bust, and have been happily reading one issue after another. I'd forgotten how really good of a magazine it is. The features are full and meaty and ripe with feminist issues. Pumped some strong blood back into my tired veins.

Roseanne Barr says you don't ask for power, you take it. Time to do such. Today I wrote for an hour. No one was stopping me in the past, but me, so I hushed the naysayer inside and took the power. It felt wonderful. Since I've been able to heal with my mother by being with her when she crossed over, I have found a renewed strength in my confidence as a writer. I walked through fear and alas, as is known, that was the only thing to fear. The dang fear, itself.

Now I am going back to writing and will read a few more features in Bust, but wanted to check in and wish you a Happy Memorial Day weekend.

Do whatever gives you power. Take it. Take it now.

Take Care

Patience.

If one can acquire such a trait, and in the meantime, continue to glean one's talent, then, then, then the treasures abound.

Patience has been taught to me, and I'm still learning.

Wait. Breathe. Shush.

Treasures.

Summer of Beginnings

My tutoring position ended last week. I have been asked back in the fall, however that leaves the summer to endure in the meantime. There was a time I would have felt fearful, but after being with my mother as she crossed over, I promised her I would stop being afraid to live if she could overcome her fear in stepping into the light. Already I've been asked to resume my duties on call in helping an owner of an inn in Park Slope. "Yes," I said. Today I received an email saying I could be a judge for a script competition I had applied for last summer, and this summer there is a place for me. "Yes," I said. And I am taking a web writing course for the year. Already I've been asked to write two articles for Associated Content. "Yes," I said. And I will continue to write, not only articles, but fiction. Go into the imagination, my Self whispers. And I have my workshops.

No fear, mama.

Not here.

Missing Mama

This post is hard to write. About a month ago, I would have told you how grand this day would be, but now, now that it is here, it is not. But I know it soon will be okay. On Feb. 28, my mother had a stroke. A bad stroke, and on April 13, she crossed over, me holding her hand, and watching her pulse stop. My sister was there, too, and we helped our mother fly away. I was her hospice caregiver. I am still catching up on major lost sleep. Today I am home from my tutoring gig. I finally ran out of steam. My sister is very third eye wide open and has heard from my mom that she is happy and no longer a prisoner in her body. My nephew dreamt they were walking and his Nanny was skipping. Last night I laid in bed (on my back which my sister says show I am open to receive) and waited, asked my mother to communicate with me.

I miss her very much.

This is all I can write for now. More to come as I heal. It was a beautiful, exhausting process and time.

It changed my life.

Dedicated to Nancy Lee Hastings