A feather blew into my path yesterday. I picked it up. As I’ve written several times before, I always see that as a sign that the Universe is saying, “Write, Nancy, write.”

Today, another feather. As I was marveling at its meaning, at how persistent the Universe can be, I found yet another. Write, Nancy, write.

Yes, I’m writing a book. But my writing schedule has become erratic since taking a part-time job. I like the financial freedom and the structure it provides in my life. I’m working on maximizing my non-work time. And then comes the repeated message — Write, Nancy, write.

So I see the feathers and keep walking to the PATH station. A large cricket hops by my feet and it causes me to start. I have a critter issue, after all. But it makes me think about my fears and how irrational they are. Hmmmmm.

Once on the train, I pull out the copy of Ladies Home Journal I bought this morning because it had Madonna on the cover. Bam. More inspiration. What a wonderful Q&A.

I have always liked Madonna. She expresses on big topics like religion and sexuality. No holds barred. No worries about what people will think. I need to do that better. It’s honest. It’s interesting. It’s real. It’s art.

Madonna talks about her spiritual quest and how her husband was also on one when she met him: “He was approaching it from an intellectual point of view, and I was approaching it from an intuitive and emotional point of view, which is the essential difference between men and women anyway.”

I am so aligned with that. And with this: “No one is encouraged to have a spiritual life — if you want to have a spiritual life now, you’re considered a geek or a weirdo, or you’re a religious zealot or a nut.”

She also admits to sometimes “showing off” in her career, but talks about how her goal was ultimately to help people with this persistent message: “If you’re really passionate about something, no matter where you are, no matter who you are, no matter what you’ve done or where you’ve come from, just go for it.”

To augment the reading experience, there are fabulous, full-page photos of her in her majestic home. In two of them, much to my squeamish surprise, she is with a mouse. In one, it is on her shoulder. In the other, she’s face-to-face with it. Gross. And yet not. There she is. No fear.

Write, Nancy, write.