In the end.

What are you thinking she asks?

There is no answer. Only the silence that she has now come to know.

What happened to all the words?

It seems they were ripped violently from this plane

only to be absorbed by black matter that will never let them go.

Where is the laughter? Why has it died away? Were there no watering holes to fuel it’s liquid needs?

What of the tears?

They have dried and formed small hills of salt on the plains of her existence.

Where is the proof of lovely times past?

It has disappeared like invisible ink.  Only to be seen again when acidic juice falls upon the pages. Revealing what was but is no longer.

What of the heart?

It wills upon itself scar tissue, in the hope of covering open wounds.

But it wasn’t all bad. Right?


First love …

You were my first.

I saw fireworks when we kissed.

Brilliant red and blue skyrocketing behind closed eyes.

I remember our first hours.

Rain, wind and thunder stormed outside as passion and curiosity blossomed in Porsche leather.

I ran scared after that evening.

But you gently persisted.

And then I fought no more.

I remember your words on that fourth of July –

“We are no longer just friends, now we are lovers”

You were my confidant.

Thank you for teaching me that trust and honor did exist.

For giving me peaceful sleep while listening to your heart beat.

Until the very last day of our acquaintance your kiss brought weakness to my knees.

Thank you for loving me.

For whispering words of tenderness in my ears

and giving me a part of your heart …

I know such beauty still exists somewhere.

I will persist …

Changes …

I feel expectant.

So much is rapidly changing (in my life) and I am literally holding on to the safety bar until the ride slows down.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s all rather grand! But there’s so much to do and be.

I am in the midst of boxing up my current home.

I am not moving until the end of May, but I am starting to relinquish the unnecessary now.

I believe I would rather live in a home filled with neatly stacked boxes, than be left to do everything at the end.

The boxes also remind me that I am leaving behind a place that dislike (both locale and emotionally).

I am moving forward into a life of physical health, spiritual peace and heart happiness.

I started my journey a few months ago, beginning with my physical health.

I no longer eat sugar, processed foods or red meat.  I have inserted organic when possible and won’t put a morsel into my mouth without knowing exactly what’s in it.  Now, lest you think this is an easy feat, it is not!

Quite the contrary.

But it has truly become much easier …

Spiritual happiness begins with meditation.

I find it’s one of the most balancing things I do.

When one is floating in a space between the walls of life one manages to let go of perpetual thoughts, negativity and unsavory feelings.

When you keep all of this bottled inside you’re bound to feel the effects, both physically and mentally.

Whenever I spend time centering myself I am left feeling as if I am in the palm of the universe.  Centered and cushioned from angst, doubt and fear.

As for the heart, surprisingly, it’s much more resilient than we think.

It seems that no matter how bruised it may become, this beating red mass regenerates, bit by bit.

With each breath, this life – love giving muscle mends the fissures and becomes stronger and so much wiser.

With that said, the heart never forgets.  Instead, it simply chooses to remember that which is beautiful. Sealing the beauty within each crack as they heal.

Letting go of the pain is necessary to move forward.

Excitement abounds about the future.

If you want happiness you must rewrite your story.

Start now and let life happen.

Take the path less traveled and let go.

Trust in a power that is higher than you.

Be brave.



And, enjoy the journey .

Heart Light …

I’ve wondered lately if I cling to tightly to things past.

Can the now live up to the then?

Will I allow myself to love again? Ever? Do I place too much emphasis on what I had? Is it possible to find fulfillment again?

The heart’s a funny thing.  After a while it simply starts to petrify.  So much so that it makes using it difficult and somewhat painful. 

Is there honour in detachment?

Can one really escape pain by compartmentalizing? 

How many times can a heart-break before it’s irreparably damaged?

And, when we’re putting it back together after each heartache, are we missing little shards?  Without these shards is there a chink in the armour?

Isn’t it simpler to enjoy what others have to offer without expectation?

Isn’t expectation desire?

And doesn’t Buddha say that the key to happiness is to not be desirous of outcomes?

I sometimes feel like a paper doll.  Beautiful and mutable yet easily torn. 

It’s essential that paper dolls be handled gently and kept safely.  Not everyone is capable of handling such a doll without tearing it. 

So, here’s the question: How do you know when an individual is (capable)?

Can a hardened heart feel warmth again?

Will it ever ebb and flow as it did when life was new and disappointment was rare?

Where does one start?

Is it worth it?

Lost And Somewhat Found …

I’ve been thinking lately about old friends. 

I used to have a best friend by the name of Julie. 

Our first meeting was a bit less than spectacular.  I was 21 and moving into a house with 2 other women.  My first impression of her was not favorable.  I was trying desperately to make my house key fit in the lock, when the front door was opened violently.  Standing there with a frustrated look was a lovely young woman.  The mirror image of a young Katherine Ross.  I tried to introduce myself but she flounced away.  My thought “what a bitch”. 

We didn’t come into contact with each other again for a few days. 

Our next encounter was somewhat more pleasant. 

She arrived home from work early one evening and came into the kitchen.  She smiled at me, apologized for her rudeness and sat down to talk.  From that moment on we were inseparable. 

She was my age, worked as a server at an extremely upscale restaurant in Santa Clara and had a very handsome Pakistani boyfriend. 

We had an interesting friendship. 

The kind that is immediately easy.  Where you simply ‘know’ each other instantly.

We spent years together, she and I. 

Eventually she married and had children (I was her birth coach for both little girls).  And, in turn,  I moved on with my career and dating life. 

Her husband was Islamic and she converted before marrying him. 

As the years progressed, she became more involved in her religion and role in the community. 

Her husband wanted her to learn more and thought that it wasn’t such a good idea for us to stay close.  However, we prevailed. 

When her father became ill and she had to leave town I took all three of her girls (one was her husbands niece).  I mothered the babies as if they were my own and did everything I could for her husband. 

The night her father died, I was the first person she called.  And, she was there when my father passed.   

However, soon after, she began to become a bit distant. 

I found out sometime later that they were thinking about moving to London for her husbands work.  I thought it might be a wonderful experience for her and the girls.  About a week after learning about the ‘possibility’ of a move, they were gone. 

There was no contact or warning.  She simply left without a word.  I never did kiss the two sweet girls (whom I loved and loved me in return) goodbye. 

My heart broke. 

We were like sisters. 

A few months later I managed to find a phone number for her.  She told me that she was sorry but that they had thought it was the best way.  She sounded sad, but I couldn’t tell for sure. 

Two years later I phoned her husbands main office in California and found out that he was visiting from the UK.  I called once and left a message on his voice mail.  A day later he rang to tell me that I was harassing him and to not call again.  I was flabbergasted. He was not the man who I thought I had known.  He told me that Julie was learning and growing and that there was no place for me.  Then he hung up.  That was the last time I ever made contact.

Recently she’s been on my mind.  I’ve often wondered if she’s thought of me as well.  Such things come to the fore front of our minds as we get older (at least for me).

I realized that her daughters would be 17 and 15 and wondered what her life was like. 

So I set out to search for her. 

I only share the above information as a background because I think it’s relevant in terms of a decision I’m trying to make. 

Do I contact her after all of these years?  

Should I contact her mother or brother and get a temperature reading of the water first? 

Or, should I simply let it lie? 

I was lucky enough years later to make a new best friend.  She and I are family.  I know that she’ll never abandon me.   I thank the universe that we collided so many years ago.  I will always love and be there for her.  As a true friend should. 

Life has moved on.  I’ve grown older and hopefully wiser as well.  However, I still wonder.  You know?



It’s the foundation of  relationships, the essence of all, and the key to the lock that is you.

It’s when you know that someone you care about would never purposefully hurt you in any way,  for any reason. 

It is belief. 

It’s the knowledge that your heart is safe. 

It’s knowing that the ones you hold close and share yourself with will gently take care and cradle you in both the good times and bad.  It is the knowledge that you may share all things without fear of recrimination, judgement or backlash.

It’s the very essence of a bond. 

Without it we have nothing…