Last night I had a two-hour telephone conversation with a friend I hadn’t talked to in a long time. It was wonderful to connect and I was thrilled to hear she is finding lessons in a stream of losses she has experienced. That is what I strive to do, to be. It reminded me of the importance of right association in our lives, the feeling of sharing with like-minded others.

It was this friend who introduced me to The Artist’s Way; last night we picked up where we left off without skipping a beat. I don’t think those two facts are unrelated. When I told her of my triumphs and my hardships of late, she was insightful about both. When I mentioned the annoying and ugly sty on my eye, she marveled at how literal the universe can be — what are you not seeing, Nancy? Knock me over with a feather, why don’t you.

That brings me to this morning. The cold is lingering. The sty is still there. I just finished meditating about everything. When all else was quiet, one persistent voice kept saying the same thing — Write your damn book. Not in your leisurely, la-la pace. Like you mean it. Like it means something to you. Like you have something to say. Like you can’t wait to spit it all out. What are you waiting for???????