I once played Merlin in “A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court.” 

Imagine: Grey beard glued to my face, a black sorcerer’s cap, and a cape draping over black shirt and pants. 

My mother had glued silver stars all over the cape and hat.

It’s time to get to work.

Get to work!

I don’t mean get yourself to the office, to a desk to respond to email or tackle work projects. I mean that it’s time to stop worrying about everyone else and turn your focus inward.

Ever wonder if you’re in the right career? 

Ever have angst about whether you are doing the right thing? 

Ever ponder if you are fulfilling your life purpose as well as you could be? 

I don't have much left of my parents. But I still have my dad's Bean boots.

They are duck boots, the kind without laces. Size 10.

My son used to fit into them—when he was in high school, he would wear them to shovel the back steps when it snowed. 

I’ve been thinking about abundance.

As in: What does it mean to have abundance?

This question might make you think about money.

I have always been ambitious.

I tend to set ever-increasing, challenging goals and to push myself.

Damn it!

It would be a lot more fun to be a free spirit.

What meeting is this? 

My partner asked this question as he saw the full Zoom screen on my laptop, showing 30 or so people. 

“It’s my team meeting,” I replied. 

“Do you have a rule that everyone has to be on camera”? he asked. 

I’ve been caught in a few narratives lately.

Such as: I’m way too busy at work.

And: I miss my Mom. 

And: I need to start eating healthier.

Narratives sometimes have someone else as the lead character, though.

I’m slowly losing the ability to be 100 percent here.

Or 100 percent there.

Too used to being in multiple places at the same time.

For example, typing an email while on the phone with my partner. Watching a movie and answering a text from friends at the same time.

I have been thinking about edges lately.

Lines we cross when we are ready.

Thresholds.

It’s usually easy to tell if we’re on one side of that threshold versus the other. In these moments, we are in a pre-contemplative or contemplative state around something.

Painting?

Photography?

Woodworking?

Or perhaps you step into your creativity in another way.

As human beings, we are gemstones with many facets. 

We are complex, intricate entities. 

I heard this idea from relationship coach Faith Fuller on a podcast recently.

I saw someone at an event recently who had an unusual canvas rucksack. 

The bag had patches stitched on it from all over the world.

And the patches were from unique destinations like Mozambique and Tasmania and Nicaragua, not just the usual France and Italy.

I just came back from a lovely trip to California. 

It’s where I’m from.

It’s where generations of my family are from.

We just sold one of our cars.

My red Jellybean.

Yes, that’s what we called her. 

My partner Dana decided to get an electric truck, and the car he was driving was newer than mine, so we decided to sell mine.

I went to an immersive art museum in Florida with my son this past weekend.

We needed some fun things to do, and perhaps a little pick-me-up based on the news lately.

My yoga instructor offered us a choice. 

“I have two possible classes,” she said. “One is easy peasy and the other will build strength. What do you all feel like?”

The group froze. Two choices! We looked at each other. We were silent.

We thought the game had its rules, but apparently, conditions have changed.

It appears that all bets are off.

We thought we agreed upon how things are done in the U.S., but a radically different kind of decision-making is here.

I continue to work on one big thing.

That is: Not getting worked up. 

As in, not letting myself get too irritated by things happening around me. In particular, I’m working with those moments when someone or something violates one of my values and I get upset or shut down. 

Juniper forward.

That’s how they described the particular gin. 

We were at St. Augustine Distillery, which makes fine craft spirits inside the walls of a former power and ice plant built in 1907. The FP&L Ice Plant was the first to make commercially produced ice in Florida.