So! Writing!

So! Writing! YES. Well. Um. TRUTH IS… obviously, from my last posting being from OCTOBER, it hasn’t happened. WHY? The EXCUSES are many. The reasons are few. I can now share that I have an ah-mazing three year-old daughter who has been in our lives since February. Now that the adoption is final and we are a family and I can share this publicly. I am blessed BEYOND. My husband and I are… and she is an ANGEL and a BRILLIANT LIGHT. She teaches me every single day. She is wise, courageous and astute. Funny, thoughtful and caring. She is her own person with her own life and is doing fabulously.

But she is not why I haven’t been writing. She is why I SHOULD BE writing. I am exhausted, true. I haven’t slept – but I haven’t for many years, let alone, months. I have realized many things that are the reasons.

I am distracted constantly. Perhaps I actually may have the adult ADHD – a condition that runs in our family. I also have the disease of alcoholism. But being over fourteen years sober that cannot be a reason. I have the tools to help with this. I don’t wish to drink, but perhaps that which drove me to drink – to hide, to escape, to postpone my life – THAT – for why I chose to drink –may be the reason.

I often feel I am living sideways, I feel – alongside my real self. I have written before that I have a parallel life – one where I am living fully and richly in Europe. I have flashes of it daily, usually from the south of France or the hills of Tuscany. Sometimes I am in London, often in Kensington High Street. Or Paris – walking around the First Arrondissement, headed across the Jardin des Tuileries. Sometimes I’m riding down the Grand Canal in Venice. But I am traveling in Europe all the time. Then I come to and look at my house and think, how did I get here?

And… that is not – alas, as they say, necessarily all good. I kinda should maybe be in my physical body sometimes? I guess. Unless! I know! I am gathering information for my next book?


In the late hours of night, after all have gone to bed, I have been watching JANE THE VIRGIN, which I am absolutely mad for – it is – by far – THE BEST SHOW ON TELEVISION. But it is also not why I haven’t been writing. Or sleeping. I actually sleep better if I can see an episode.

Though Jane’s own journey about writing has surely helped me to think about my experiences with achieving my own dream to be a successful writer. Watching this show has invigorated me. And I am sure, also, stalled me. Not only for spending all the time watching it – I am currently on Season 3, Chapter Forty-Nine and its taking everything in my power not to binge it straight to catch up in real time. But I digress. I am not writing instead – because the show is brilliant and funny and witty and wise – and is literally, like a show I have always wanted to write – but haven’t. It touches on so many areas of human relationships; it’s really therapy, honestly. And it overwhelms me with its brilliance. So I stall. But … only for the last few moments. Or months, really. Honestly… If I am being honest, truthfully, Jane the Virgin has helped me to awaken, to grow up and to look at myself in ways I may not have wanted to. And it makes me happy. Who doesn’t love a good telenovela to awaken all the senses? I’ve even got my godmother to watch! We think Rogelio looks like my husband, and he does. Handsome, ever so good-looking and funny too!

But it’s Jane’s struggle with her motherhood and writing and living and loving and being that I relate to. It’s the perfect show at the perfect time and I don’t feel so out at sea.

Like Jane, I love to write. And like Jane experiences, it’s hard do focus on it when there is SO MUCH ELSE TO BE DONE.

And there lies the problem. The so much else to be done is what I have grown up with witnessing taking precedence over what MUST BE DONE NOW. Which is live in the present, and not be afraid to take the leap – literally – to do what I am meant to be doing.

So I know what it is, question is – WILL I CHANGE? Change is the only thing that is consistent in life. But I know I can try to halt it for the time being. But deep down, I know I have to FACE IT. And EMBRACE IT. And say, I can MAKE A DIFFERENT CHOICE…but do I? There are thank you notes to write after all…

So! Writing. YES! That! Here I am watching the sunrise on this soon to be promise of rainy day. And I have to try to be honest with myself. Not TRY. BE. It will be a change. There, I’ve said it. Or rather written it. Now I have to take the next indicated ACTION and by God and Goddess, DO WHAT I SAY I AM GOING TO DO! THERE. NOW. OK, SO!…















Into the Sleeping Boat

I awaken to the sounds of birds all through the canyon. Actually, I haven’t slept all night, so I ARISE, I should say. Off the floor, off the couch, off the night I spent walking about my mother’s house, listening to snoring in other rooms. Wistful whispering sleep of others in yet others. Night owls and moon glow swooping over the mountains. Night in Palm Springs. Glorious as ever.

I am not a sleeper. I know I shouldn’t say it or put it in writing thus making it so. I know I should mantra, “I sleep like a dozing baby in the sunlight with not a care in the world.” But I don’t. Even as a young child, I awoke before dawn, before television started for the day – as television used to sign off at night and then start again at 6 in the morning. It wasn’t 24 hours until the late 1970’s – and I watched color bars until the flicker of the start of “Sesame Street” or “Electric Company” or “Dusty’s Treehouse” or “Captain Kanagroo” – I adored Mr. Green Jeans!

There are books galore on how to sleep. So many recently published by those who advocated less sleep in the past. Advice! Turn off electronics! Don’t drink coffee after breakfast! Don’t watch violent shows right before bed! (But I LOVE “Person of Interest” So very sad to see it go!), read, say affirmations! Relax! Recount your day like a movie, from wake up to into bed…Be grateful!

In high school, if we had a long night of partying, i.e. playing quarters, dancing to ABC and Bananarama and everyone passed out, I would still be awake. I missed the sleeping boat. It went across the river and left me on the banks. I watched it go. I sat up all night, listening to the snores, the drooling, the out-like-a-lights! If not in my own home with my parents away for the weekend, then in another, up in the Canyons, or the Hancock Parks, curled up in chairs by windows watching the night sky turn slowly into dawning day, panicked because I had not slept all night. What will tomorrow be like?

I should like to get into the lovely sleeping boat one night. I should like to travel in it down the river. Where does it go? To dreamland? To our parallel life and drop us off for the night? My beautiful aunt loved to sleep. She said she went to her parallel life every night. I know my parallel life is gorgeous and relaxing. Right now, we are in the South of France. Up on the hillside, overlooking fields and fields of lavender. I feel myself walking up the cobblestone ways of ancient Roman hilltop towns, buying provisions for our early dinner on the large table on the patio. There are colorful cushions everywhere, plenty of wine for those who drink and coffee and sparkle water for those who don’t, and we have not a care in the world… I feel it daily. I know I am there just as I am here. It’s vibrant, beautiful and inspiring. Everyday I dream of joining it with me here, in Southern California. And there, sleep is not an issue.

Waking up in Palm Springs puts me there too. I’m still the only one awake now. The hooting owls are hooting and buzzing bees swooping. I brought my Kings Road Coffee – (Hello! We need the best!) and I gaze at the lizardies skittering across the desert, hummingbirds hum by the flower bushes, and other critters twitter away, beginning their day.

Desert Sun Rise 12 20 15

I feel like if I put it in writing, things will change. A part of me knows that this is also learned experience. My grandmother didn’t sleep – my mother doesn’t sleep – I grew up with this. I am also 49 now and those of us who are my age knows what this means. During this transitional time, many women don’t sleep. My arms go numb as soon as I lie down, so I know I have to go back to the doctor to have them adjust me. Sometimes I am nervous to close my eyes and disappear and I can’t seem to get over it. What will I miss? What really happens to us when we sleep?

People tell me I will. Now, as I get this all out – it feels like a lot of manifesting noise to me. Wah wah wah! I can’t sleep! Who cares! I know it’s important, but get over it! Just do it! Ha! It’s a storyline that is tiresome, literally, that is for sure. Even with all the how-to’s out there – I can only hope there may be someone out there who truly understands, when the directions don’t help. It makes me kooky, not to mention not feeling pretty at all. How much beauty crème can a gal apply?? How many times can I ask why?

I am a blessed and bountiful Goddess with gifts galore and truly, not a real care in the world. Bills and debts and concerns for the future are all just facts of life. They are not special to me alone. I need to stop thinking about those and get on the sleeping boat and see where it goes. To not be afraid to sleep. To join my parallel life and visit it for real. I know I sleep there, because I wake up refreshed, ready to go into the day, day after day! And where today? Train to Paris, of course! Or truly…back to L.A.!