Which do you feed?

hungry monsterIf you’re trying to satisfy the ego, that’s a Sisyphean task.  Oh, sure.  For a moment the hungry monster ego feels gratified and happy when you knock em dead in an audition or win some coveted award/contest/game.  The ever-expanding Python-like ego smiles broadly, burps, and looks really pleased—for about an hour.  Kinda like Chinese food though, anything that feeds the ego just does not last.  Gotta keep feeding it. Filling it is not gonna happen.

The heart, however, is easily and sweetly satisfied.  And, oddly, what feeds the heart is open heartabout sharing and giving:  sharing one’s creativity, helping someone else with their creativity, offering a helping hand, contributing to others.  The heart says, “Here.  Here’s what I have.  Let me feed you.  Oh, good.  You like it?!  You think it’s wonderful?!”

And, in that moment, that dangerous moment of hearing someone thinks it’s wonderful, the ego races in and snatches the food away from the heart because it does not have a clue about sharing.  “Gimme that!  They liked it!  It’s mine! I need more applause!  More validation!  More approval!”

Being an artist is so treacherous in that way.  The loud, hungry monster ego is always there ready to leap in.  And if it doesn’t get what it wants, it cries.  It stomps its feet.  It has temper tantrums.  “I didn’t get enough!  I didn’t get that part!  I hate this world.  I’m going to retreat and never come out again!”  And, the poor little heart is trampled all over by the feet of the dragon ego as it races into isolation.

It is so difficult not to fall into the trap of wanting to GET love rather that knowing life is best when we SHARE the love we have.

The good news is that the heart is unbelievably resilient.  It will come back to life in the smallest places.  All it needs is a little room and it is ready to give and to share.

Love the poor ego.  Embrace it.  Hug it, but don’t feed it junk food.

Instead, feed your heart by sharing your light today.


Life really may be that simple.  LoveLiving seems so complicated, but maybe it’s not.

Yes, we have problems to solve.  We have boogie men thoughts that wake us up in the middle of the night and scare us.  We have doubts.  We have insecurities.

We have things to take care of.  Some people have a lot of things.  We all have to take care of our things and whatever box we live in and whatever box we drive.  Sometimes we box ourselves in with these things.  We fear getting out of our boxed-in boxes: relationships, jobs, and life styles.

Fear is practically our default mode.  It’s easy to choose fear.  We can find so many ways to scare ourselves.

But what if you decided to choose love, not fear?  This is such an ancient idea.  It has been said in every language and in every human religion and understanding of enlightenment since the beginning of human wisdom.  So simple.

Start with yourself.  What if you decided to love yourself?  What if you loved yourself as Love?  What if you walked into your fear and embraced it with Love?

What if you said to yourself, “I choose love, not fear.”

Try it now.  Say it as if you mean it and see what happens.


washingmachineOne of the most fun things I do in life is help people get present.  I do it almost every day.  It’s surprising, inspiring, creative, and healing.  I’m eternally grateful and amazed by this simple process that was dropped in my lap by the Big Whatever.

A dear friend calls.  She’s really frightened—scared about money.  (I have observed in the past that fear is attracted to money like mosquitoes are attracted to blood.)  My friend goes on for a bit about her desperation and talks about some not so good solutions she is considering based on this fear.

After a moment, I ask her if she wants to “get present.”

“No,” she says, “I don’t have enough time.  It’s late.  I have to get to bed.”

Right.  NO ONE really wants to get present.  I understand that completely.  Who wants to feel deeply—to go into the body and discover what is really going on?  Getting present takes willingness and courage.

But, she’s done my Creative Explosion workshop, so after a bit, when I gently ask again if she wants to get present, she says, “Okay.  Let’s do it fast, though.”  I laugh to myself and ask the familiar, dreaded question.  “So what sensation are you experiencing in your body right now?”



“All over.”

“Is there any predominant sensation?”

“In my heart.  I feel a lot of agitation in my heart chakra.”  (She does yoga.)

“What does it feel like?”

“It’s like a washing machine.  It’s agitating too fast.”

“What does the washing machine look like?”

“It’s not like mine.  It’s old fashioned.  Loads from the top.”

(Just like mine! I think but do not say.)  “Can you go to it and touch it?  Don’t do anything.  Just be with it.”

“Yeah.  I can feel it vibrating.  It’s going very fast.”

“Anything else about it?”

“Yeah.  The top is open and the water is filthy.”

“Okay.  Just be with it for a while.”  She’s silent for a spell then says.  “the water is all draining out.”

“Okay.  Just let it.”

Another pause.  “I feel much calmer.”

A moment.

“Oh, now I see myself standing on a crack in the earth.  There is a chasm below me.  On one side is negativity and fear.  On the other is all my spiritual work and trust.  They are moving apart and I’m doing the splits.  I have to choose which side to go to.”  It takes her a moment, surprisingly, but eventually she chooses trust.

She is present and calmer so I ask her to invite her Higher Power or Higher Self to be with her.  (This is an important part of Getting Present.  It’s not necessary to believe in God, and she says doesn’t.)  Her Higher Power turns out to be a guru who gently laughs at her fear.  He is full of good, calm, heart-centered advice.  In a very short time, she has moved from fear to peace and sees her life rationally and calmly.  She decides to continue with her creativity, do the work she has, and if it really becomes necessary, in the future she knows she can find a supplemental job.

That probably took no more than five or ten minutes.

I just love this Getting Present process.  I don’t have to advise anyone or listen to a long story or harangue.  People find their own peace and wisdom inside once they have moved into and through the uncomfortable sensations and feelings.  The images and what happens is usually surprising, healing, creative and entertaining.

I get present too with partners.  We generally laugh a lot.

What could be more fun than that?


BraSo, you have driven your vehicle (hopefully not a motorcycle) through The Fear Car Wash, and you’re on the road to follow your dream, right? Or have you stopped to get a Big Mac and a shake, and then taken a nap on the beach?

It’s so easy to slip into unconsciousness or indifference or a kind of lassitude. “Yeah, I know what I want. I’ve faced my fear about it, but I’ll get started tomorrow,” you say Scarlett O’Hara-like while you’re playing Spider Solitaire.

What happened?

I’ll tell you what happened.

You did not get support.

Once you face the truth and the fear about what you want, you’d better get support, because every step you take towards something that looks difficult or challenging or overwhelming will bring up fear again and again. And fear will, as it loves to do, disguise itself. It will become tiredness, indifference, amnesia, distractions, confusion, conflicts, indecision, and addictions—oh the list is long and insidious.

Depending upon how long you go without taking action toward your dreams and goals is how much fear you will have to face to get started again. So, if you have to go through the big Fear Car Wash again, this time, make sure you have lined up the kind of support you need to greet you on the other side.

What kinds of support are there?

1. God is a good one. God? Who? Like me, you may not even understand what that means, but you don’t need to. Surely you have known times when you are calm and still and willing to listen. At those times, some Guide, some Wise Self or Higher Consciousness emerges to guide you to truth and the right action. So, meditate. Get some kind of spiritual practice: yoga, walking, praying, anything that helps you go within and listen to your Higher Self.

2. Get Present with a Compassionate Witness. (See my book, The Four Principles.) Okay. I do have to say that this technique is one of the most powerful ways in which I get clear and access the kind of wisdom that I cannot seem to find in my normal, conscious mind. It’s always surprising. (Side note: While writing this, a friend called on the phone to “Get Present.” It was fast, easy, and the guidance she received completely surprised her.) I don’t know where else you can find this except in my Creative Explosion Workshops, so feel free to enroll in the next one in July. (See sidebar.)

3. Support Groups. Go to any support group that feels right to you. There are masses of them out there. The Twelve Step Programs are, of course, beautifully effective, free, and there’s practically one for every need. Not being formerly acquainted with them, I have discovered Underearners Anonymous which is not just about making more money. It’s about getting out of hiding in one’s lovely, safe cave.

If you can’t find a support group that suits your needs, create your own. I created my own writing support group which has been meeting for about two years now. Four of us. The other three fantastic women are highly committed, intelligent and inspiring. I don’t know how I would tackle a writing project I’m doing without them.

4. Therapy. Find a good therapist. I had a great one, and can still call her as needed.

5. Teachers and Counselors. Find a teacher, sponsor, mentor, or coach. “When the student is ready, the teacher appears.”

6. Experts. You cannot know everything, so you’re going to need contractors, electricians, plumbers, editors, agents, printers, lawyers, etc.

7. Friends. Notice I list them last because friends will be there for you when you need someone to play with, cry with, celebrate with, laugh with, hang out with—when you’re sick, need help, are down and out, need them to take care of your dog, but they may not be the best resource to push you beyond the limits you have set for yourself—unless you set a more formal structure with them for that purpose.

The point is: GET SUPPORT! You are 100 percent responsible for your commitment, and you CANNOT do it alone! We can’t climb mountains solo without the clothing and equipment someone else made. My favorite Oscar speech was Maureen Stapleton saying, “…and I want to thank everyone I ever met in my entire life.” Sounds funny, but she was onto something. We are not as independent as we think. Face it. We humans are a totally interdependent species.

But, we do have to be responsible for our commitments. Nobody can support us if we don’t know what we want. Those of us who live in a relatively free world can either succeed or fail. We can either make a mess of our lives or live gloriously. Voltaire said that freedom can’t be achieved without being responsible; otherwise freedom turns to chaos. Being responsible means being clear about one’s commitments, and getting the support to carry them out.

You may not have a vision yet, but if you look at your life, you probably have a goal or two you haven’t achieved. Get support. And then, get more support. With enough you can achieve anything. You can be president if you get enough votes. You can lose the weight, write the book, go to the audition, sing your song, speak in front of crowds, find a lover, and change the world if that’s what your heart desires—if you have enough support.

Here’s the catch. The only way you are going to get support is by using one of The Four Principles. And the principle is……. Come on. Which of the Four Principles will you have to use?

That’s right! COMMUNICATION! In fact, support is all about COMMUNICATION. So, pick up the phone or put your fingers on the keyboard and start asking for help.


I was driving home from an early meeting thinking about how to schedule everything in my day and get to a rehearsal at 4 PM for a reading of A Delicate Balance..

A thought or whisper wafted through my distracted mind:  “Feed the heart first,”  I heard. It seemed like a direct message from the Big Whatever, Higher Power, God—you supply the name.

As I drove on, I thought about the word “feed.”  Why “feed?”  And then it made sense.  Energy for action comes from passion, and the home of passion is the heart.  The more one loves something, the more energy is available to take care of it, promote it, or do whatever is needed.

So “feed” is the perfect word.

I thought of the many things that feed my heart:

1. Writing.  Top of the list.  When I have a good writing session, I feel as if I have been given a vitamin I didn’t even know I needed.  I feel energized to do the other stuff.  When I don’t write, my energy drains and I get depressed.
2. The Getting Present Process.  (If you don’t know what that is, buy my book.  Hit the Paypal button over there.  It will be worth it.)
3. Support.  Any kind of support feeds me whether giving or receiving.  My weekly writing group, my action partner with whom I talk every morning, and the Twelve Step meetings I attend all supply my heart with energy.
4. Friends.
5. Meditation.  It’s 5 on the list here but not necessarily fifth.  Sometimes meditation very powerfully restores my heart and my soul.
6. Great art.
7. Nature and animals.

My HP said to feed my heart first—which I take to mean do something that feeds my heart when I wake up in the morning.  I also take it to mean that I should make feeding my heart my first priority.

May I pass on this message reminder from my Higher Power to you?

What feeds your heart and will put that first?


As I lie in my sweat-soaked sheets ill from the nastiest flu I’ve ever experienced, I contemplate what I have learned.  (Illness can serve a purpose if you are open to it.)  Of course, the first three days were a blur of coughing and fever, but on the fourth day still too ill to do anything purposeful (key word here), I swung my lap top desk over my much-blanketed bed and started catching up on cultural phenomena that I had been too busy to bother with previously:

Gangnam Style.  If you’re like me, you have no idea what that is—maybe you’ve read or heard some reference to it, but haven’t actually seen it.  I first became aware of it when I saw someone wearing a tee shirt with Gangnam Style printed on it in large letters.
So, lying in bed sipping wellness tea, I looked it up on YouTube.  Being older and constantly slipping behind technologically and culturally, mine was the 1,141,096,846th hit.  No kidding, over a billion hits on YouTube.  Holy cannoli, I thought, that’s 1/7th of the world’s population!  Then I realized it only means “hits.”  There are probably 10,000 teenagers somewhere who have watched it obsessively and pushed it up to over a billion hits.  Nevertheless, Gangnam Style is a cultural phenomenon.

The first thing I noticed about this music video was the cheery upbeat sound.  Then I realized it is not in English (except for an occasional “sexy lady” thrown in) and is sung by a kind of Asian Jim Belushi in sunglasses who doesn’t smile and dances one of the silliest dances in music video history—like a child’s imitation of riding a horse.  Surprisingly, I found myself smiling, then laughing.  I liked it.  A lot.  Here’s the link:

Downton Abbey.  Having no TV (for over 30 years now…haven’t missed it),  I was nevertheless able to watch this phenomenon through the grace of the Masterpiece website only hours after everyone else had seen it.  My internet connection is old lady slow, therefore the episode constantly started and stopped giving me the added pleasure of being able to take in all the details of costume and set during the endless and frequent pauses as well as giving me time to make cups of tea, take little naps, and spend the entire morning in a Proustian-like dream of time moving slowly and gently through this great fantasy life while lengthening my sentences.

Laughing at Maggie Smith sent me into terrible coughing fits, but I didn’t care.  I was grateful.  I, like so many, am a devotee of Maggie’s (that’s what we devotees call her).
I lay back…well, not all the way…propped up on pillows…and asked myself what made Maggie Smith so brilliant and appealing.  Yes, her comic timing is impeccable, but what does it for me is her sense of the absurd—her understanding and love of silliness.  In one scene, they are all playing charades.  The evil newspaperman remarks scornfully at how silly people make themselves in the process.  Maggie Smith smiles that smile of hers and says, “Let’s see what you look like when it’s your turn.”

Gangnam Style, too, is really silly.  It’s not dark or serious, but delightfully silly.  You don’t need to know Korean to get it.  Psy, the singer/songwriter/creator, in his own way is willing to be the fool as he makes fun of people who take the wrong things to be important.
Pomposity and silliness cannot exist in the same space.  Rigidity, negativity, and judgment are exposed in the face of silliness (though they don’t like it).  Sadly, we tend to lose our sense of silliness as we grow older and more responsible and take on weightier issues of rearing children and solving the problems of the world.  We lose our ability to laugh and make others laugh with us as we did when we were young.  But, anyone wise in how creativity happens emphasizes playfulness, unstructured time, humor, and…silliness.

When we forget how important humor and silliness are. we grow old, dull, and lack creativity.  I’m grateful to Maggie and Psy for reminding me of the great necessity of silliness.  No wonder kings employed jesters.  I say bring jesters into the White House!  Make it a cabinet position!  The Secretary of Silliness.  Were we as expert in it as Maggie Smith, silliness could be the effective antidote to nearly everything wrong in the world.  Silliness is a Cure All.

Okay, maybe I am feverish.  Maybe I am overestimating it, but I think a Random Act of Silliness campaign is just what we need now.  So, here I go.  Flu-ridden I’m putting on my slippers made like little black and white cows complete with red ribbons and a little bell around their necks. They jingle as I walk to the kitchen for another cuppa tea.  Their little heads on the top of my toes bump into one another as I lay back in bed.

I smile.  I feel better already.

Will you join me in my campaign?  What random act of silliness will you do today? cows


When did it become socially acceptable to send out a single-spaced, sometimes double-sided Christmas letter about what a fantastic year someone has had and how wonderful their family is?  You find it folded up in a Christmas card with a picture of the perfect American family on the cover:  husband and wife and two or three kids with a dog or two seated in front of the fireplace smiling their over-achieving smiles.

“Oh, uch,” you say, but you open it even though your own finances may be in a shambles, you hate your job, you’ve just had a fight and broken up with your boyfriemd/spouse, and you’re waiting for the lab reports on your colonoscopy.

You sit on your unmade bed and read this endless letter from someone you barely know.  It starts off with Ted having been promoted to CEO.  “He’s worked hard for it!  We opened up the champagne for that one.”  Ted, Jr. “gets a big slap on the back for being accepted to Harvard.  The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?”

You stop reading for a moment, but it draws you back like a train wreck.  Slumping over now, you read on.  “We’re trying to keep Sally from getting a big head after graduating Valedictorian from her high school!  Just kidding.  She came back from her volunteer work on Habitat for Humanity with her feet pretty solidly on the ground and even more committed to a year’s work in Uganda fighting AID’s.  Teddy Jr. teases her endlessly about becoming the first female president.”

You fall back on the bed and reach for the bag of Lundt’s chocolate balls.  Tearing the red wrapper off on, you pop the whole thing in your mouth, it’s too big, but you roll it around trying to resist biting into it as you read on.  The wife, who’s writing this epistle (you pause, where do you know her from?  Oh, never mind) says that her cupcake business has  become a nation-wide phenomenon, and she’s in the process of selling the recipes for so much “I think they added a couple of zero’s by mistake!”

And, that’s only the first paragraph.  The letter goes on and on through every single fabulous thing they did after the last bragging “newsletter” was written.  Tucked modestly in the middle of this one is the Christmas party they went to at the White House last year.  “I was nervous but Michelle was really down to earth and we’re exchanging recipes.”  As you unconsciously go through what’s left of the bag of chocolate balls, you read to the bitter end.

“Wow, what a great time we all had in Dubai. You really must go first chance you get!”

Last year it was Turkey.  Why do I remember? You ask yourself.  And why am I on their mailing list?  I haven’t talked to them for years.    The bag is now empty.  But, wait, it’s not all good in the letter

“Poor great grandmother, Bella, passed away this year, but it was peaceful, and she was surrounded by family.”  Then, without a pause, “Ted, Jr. is getting a lot of attention with his Youtube videos of our guinea pig, Winston Churchill.  What amazing feats he’s taught that little creature to do!  (Check them out sky diving at Winston’s very own website!)”

You sweep the letter and the empty bag of Lundt’s chocolate off the bed, roll over, fall into a deep sleep praying that it will be Jan 2 when you wake up.


Which action is appropriate in the situation you are facing?

Communicate.  Don’t communicate.
Do something.  Do nothing.
Get going.  Take a nap.
Start.  Stop.
Eat.  Don’t eat.
Pray.  Don’t pray.  (I know.  There are some people who think you should always be in prayer, but suppose you’re accepting an Academy Award.  Do you say, “Let us all join hands and bow our heads in prayer.”  Mmm.  Maybe not. )

Knowing when to do something and when NOT to do that thing is so case specific.  There really is no one rule to follow always.  Many times it is not clear at all and making a decision causes us worry and even panic.

I will never forget a hilarious monologue a student did once in class: she played her upper class British mother trying to decide whether to take some wheelies for her luggage as she prepared for a trip.  “Should I?  Shouldn’t I?”  She kept repeating worriedly in a lovely English accent.  We were falling on the floor laughing probably because we recognized how ridiculously upset we can all get about the smallest decision.

I find that if I Get Present, I will usually know the right action to take.  Getting into my “gut truth” and stopping my mind helps enormously.  So many times I think I should do something or not do something but I’m confusing myself with “shoulds” or guilt.

Sometimes I will consult a method of Divination—like the Runes (kinda like flipping a coin).  Amazingly, that seems to work too.  I draw two Runes (out of the 24 little stones with viking symbols) and ask, “What will happen if I do this?”  and “What will happen if I do that?’  The answer can be very clear forcing me to face a truth that I may not want to face.

Sometimes I will ask a friend’s advice. Fortunately, I have some wise, experienced friends.

It seems as if life is a mine field of decision-making.

Recently, I helped a friend put together a white wooden wall unit from Ikea.  Afterward, we sat together on her new Ikea futon admiring it.  She began fussing a bit about what exactly to put in all the 24 cubby holes.  “This is the kind of thing that is going to keep me awake all night,” she said frowning. I laughed.  (Hey, I don’t have to decide, do I?)

Of course, the size of the decisions we’re facing makes a difference, but the process is the same whether they are large or small ones.  Row?  Let go?

Why is choosing what action to take so difficult?   Fear.  Am I doing the right or the wrong thing?  Will I be hurt if I do this?  Will someone be mad at me if I do that?  Will I be judged?  Will this contribute or harm?  Will I feel better or worse?  So many questions around even the simplest decisions.  I have watched people torment themselves regarding decisions in the Row/Let Go category–arguing both sides ad infinitum until they are literally paralyzed.

Getting Present is so important.  How helpful it is to become conscious of the fear (and attached anger, sadness and guilt)–to feel it until you get to a calmer state when whether to Row or Let Go is clear.

Okay.  Shower now? Or after I meditate?  Eh. Where did I put those Runes?


Morton salt doll

“You’re all salt dolls afraid to walk into the ocean.”

A Buddhist teacher named Hilda* said that in a lecture at St. John the Divine in New York City many, many years ago.  I never forgot it.

She was right about me.  I was a terrified little salt doll dancing around on the beach, scampering back if a wave of happiness got too close to my dried up little feet.  Surrendering to the Ocean seemed like annihilation, and perhaps it would be in a way—the absorption of my limited self, the melting of the false persona that I created that I hoped (mistakenly) would protect me from hurt.  Unfortunately, what it really did was block me from my own light.

As a teacher I have witnessed so many students afraid of their talent, their beauty, and their power who have built false personas diametrically opposed to who they really are.  Maintaining such an untruthful exterior frustrates and aggravates the people around them.

Why do we cling to these false, empty personas?  What are we afraid of?  Love?  Happiness?

What if we dared to walk into this Ocean, relinquished our dried-up, old, limited beliefs about ourselves, and became who we really are.   But, oh, the terror of surrendering our pseudo poor-me selves! Not to mention the exhaustion because we use so much energy maintaining these defenses.

For me, the idea of being the entire ocean was too overwhelming.  Lately it seems that I have been willing at least to step into a small salt pond.  As I relax and enjoy the marshes and the herons, the old idea of me is dissolving because surrender is surrender:  it doesn’t matter if in a salt pond or the ocean.  Maybe happiness takes tricking the mind a little.  Maybe happiness takes some practice.

Here’s an idea:  what if you were to take a bath tonight (maybe even add some Epsom salts) and step into it with the willingness to surrender that very limited, salt doll persona you’ve had for so long?  What if you made a kind of ritual of it saying, “Here I am God.  I let go of all the negative, useless, fearful, willful, stubborn ideas about who I am and what I think I should be.  From this moment on, I am who I really am!  I am willing to be happy.” Start with enjoying the bath.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.

And when you pull the plug, watch that water and your salt doll self drain away knowing every drop will eventually end up in the Ocean anyway.  Hah.

*If you have more information about Hilda, please let me know.


When I was a little girl, my mother force-fed me a bunch of Pollyanna books.  I hated them.  Pollyanna was a goody, goody two shoes who always saw the bright side of everything.  I suppose my mother hoped that Pollyanna might become a role model and transform me from the gloomy, depressed child I was into the happy, malleable little girl she wished I was.  It didn’t work.  I loathed humorless Pollyanna.

I have been more in tune with Monty Python’s bitterly funny song sung by a man hanging from a cross “Always look on the bright side of life!  Deedee dee dee dee dee dee dee!”

However, after years of practicing the Being Present process I see myself starting to slip into Pollyanna Land–surprising myself when I don’t lapse into negativity or worry as I used to.  I said to a friend recently, “Well, it’s been one thing after the other,” and then realized how cheerful I was because these events did come one after the other rather than all at once! Wonderful.  Such timing seemed miraculous.

First the water heater broke and created the Great Flood downstairs.  The company I called showed up immediately with a crew and finished everything but the carpeting.  During the work, I struck up a conversation with the guy who was redoing the wood around the doors.  “Say,” I said.  “Would you take a look at my barn?  It’s really old.  I’ve been using it as a kind of garage, but it’s been tilting more and more over the 33 years I’ve been here.  The posts it’s standing on are really rotten, and I’m scared it’s going to just collapse.”

He walked around looking at it—admiring the great old hand-hewn beams and the barn wood, noticing the tilt, the gaping holes above in the ridge of the roof, and said, “Sure.  I can reinforce it.  No problem.”   He gave me a reasonable quote and I hired him on the spot to come back in a few days and save my barn and maybe me.  How lucky the water heater broke which led to this great guy to take care of the barn!

But, then he had to cancel for whatever reason, and said he would come back after the much- advertised Frankenstorm Sandy passed through.

I’m probably the only person who evacuated to the coast of Connecticut for the storm.  My friend Liz who has a house high above a cove with a generator and a complete, separate apartment invited me to stay with her.  I really didn’t want to ride it out alone, so I was exceedingly grateful.

Some instinct told me to take both my van and my car over to her place, thank God, because after the storm, when I went back to visit my house, trees were downed by my driveway which was obstructed by many small logs and branches.  Clearly some freak gust of wind must have whipped through like a train, creating general chaos and then exited out my old barn knocking down what was left of the back and leaving half a tree on the roof tilting the whole thing even more.  Somehow, my poor barn was still standing, but had my vehicles been there, no doubt they would have been severely damaged.  How fortuitous!

The fact that these events did happen one after the other was in perfect order.  Had The Great Floodt occurred after Hurricane Sandy—the machines to suck out the water and dry the basement couldn’t have been plugged in because of the power outage.  The company who did the work probably would have been too overwhelmed with emergency calls to respond as fast as they did—if at all.  How fortunate, too, that the carpeting had not been put down because the power shut off and caused a water leak onto the floor. from a toilet pump.  It wasn’t a flood and was pretty easy to clean up, but the rusty water would have ruined any new carpet.  Thank goodness I didn’t spend the money to reinforce the barn before Sandy, because now it’s going to be torn down and replaced with a simple garage thanks to my insurance company!

Barn after Sandy

It’s all good!  Oh, I’m so lucky, lucky, lucky!  I can look on the bright side of life!  Dee dee.  Dee dee dee dee dee dee!

Uh oh!  Here comes Pollyanna.  Oh, no!  Maybe my Mother was right after all.