The Bold Soul

My best year yet

Well I have to say it: 47 is feeling pretty freaking great so far. Yes, it's another birthday for me today!

Ever since I passed 35 (and "still single") and then every birthday since then (also with the "still single" label attached, at least in my own mind), I would think about each year and what I had accomplished despite not having a man in my life (actually when I was 35 I did have someone in my life, but we split up some time after I turned 36 and that was it for me for a long while, relationship-wise). I never wanted to be one of those women who felt her life was complete shit without a man around. Much as there was a part of me that wanted someone special by my side, there was another part of me that felt a certain pride that I didn't get all sad and morose each time another birthday rolled past like the mile-markers on the side of the highway: "You have just passed mile marker 43... just 40 more years until you die alone and unloved".

Nope, I wasn't having any of that stuff. I always felt my life had to be worthwhile, that it ought to stand for something wonderful, even if I had no partner. In the past decade or so, I made it my business to try and design a life I felt good about. And it was after I passed 43 that I really started feeling it... the need to stretch myself farther, be bolder, and take more control of my life instead of living it on autopilot.

So at 45, I made the leap, and came to Paris. At 46, I spent my birthday in France, in the company of lovely friends in Provence, and THAT was memorable. A few months later, I took my summer Tour and thought more about how long I might want to stay here, given that I was "still" on my own. I was on the verge of maybe having to go back as money was running a bit low, but I made a commitment to myself to stick it out a while longer even while I started thinking of a back-up plan of "where to go next". I didn't know what my future would hold, and when (or even if) Love and I would cross paths again, although I had a strong feeling that "something was coming". But I was determined to make my life wonderful even if I never met anyone special, ever again. I was determined to live my life on my terms, no matter what.

Then Georges entered my life, and I entered his. Now we are getting ready to enter a new phase of both our lives, one we never saw coming at "our ages". I wake up every day smiling, and fall asleep the same way; I haven't been able to make that claim in a long time, even though I'm generally a very happy person.

It's not fair to say that I'm only happy BECAUSE of Georges being in my life. I don't believe other people can "make" you happy any more than they can "make" you unhappy; I think we choose how to feel most of the time. I think Georges and I were attracted to each other because we were both ready to be together and be happy together; we were both already quite happy people, each in our way.

So now as I cross into 47, I feel in some ways as though my life is beginning anew, even though for many people it's a time when things are beginning to slow down and get comfortable. We starting an adventure together... and it's called Life.

What better way to celebrate another year?

Everyone's dreams CAN come true

I am comfortably installed in what may one day be known as the table where I wrote my first bestseller -- in much the same way Hemingway was known to write at a table at the Deux Magots, only I am much less literary. I am sitting smack dab in the middle of my friend Aimee's dream, sipping a delicious cup of Yoga Chai tea. Aimee sewed the cheerful pink and white tablecloth with her own two hands... the first of many personal touches and improvements she'll be making, I have no doubt.

Today, Aimee did something incredibly bold and fabulous: she realized a very big dream. She opened her very own café:  L'Oisive Thé. It is a small and totally adorable tea shop located in the 13th, in the picturesque Butte aux Cailles quartier, on the corner of Rue de la Butte aux Cailles and Rue Jean-Marie Jégo, just a short walk from Place d'Italie down Rue Bobillot (nearest metro: Place d'Italie on the #5 and #7 or Corvisart on the #6). The street has a small park and a number of other restaurants, but it's the only tea shop in the area. A l'oisive, by the way, is a "lady of leisure" -- what a great name for a tea shop (not that men of leisure aren't welcome too!)

I am completely jazzed to say that Georges and I happened to be there at the beginning of Aimee's leap into becoming a restauranteur. I hadn't even known this was a particular dream of hers, although some of her other Parisian friends were probably aware of it. Georges and I met Aimee and her husband for lunch one day, and when we hooked up with them, they suggested going to brunch instead because they'd read about a brunch place very near where they live but at which they'd never eaten before. Who doesn't love brunch, right? So off we went, with the others giving me a little run-down on the Butte aux Cailles area, which was new territory for this ex-pat.

While we enjoyed our delightful meal, Aimee kept looking around and saying how cute the place was but how, if it was hers, she might do some things differently. And that's when it came out that she had dreamed of having her own little café for a very long time... more specifically a place where knitters could come and knit (Aimee being a very talented knitter) while they enjoyed some tea, coffee, treats and the company of other knitters. We spent a good part of that brunch brainstorming: what if you put a small sofa over there? What if you took those shelves out and did something else there? Would you put in some Internet access? Should the menu be changed... a liquor license added? Suffice to say it became the major focal point of our conversation.

I can't remember now who it was that first noticed the "For Sale" sign in the window, but by the time we all walked out of there, Aimee's husband had taken the carte de visite and written down the agent's phone number. It couldn't hurt to just call and ask about it, right? We all agreed it should be explored further because you just never know.

Well, here it is a few months later (probably the longest of Aimee's life in some ways, while she negotiated and navigated and tolerated all the hoops and hurdles thrown in front of her on this journey) -- and she's DONE IT! She owns this beautiful little café. Opening day was today!

I wanted to be there right at the opening to take photos and celebrate with Aimee before the day got too crazy for her, and I nearly made it on time... having tripped and fallen on some freaking very hard Parisian cobblestones in the Place d'Italie as I was rushing to get there (my entire body aches and my knee is pretty banged up, but otherwise no major harm done, fortunately!) I arrived just a few minutes after 11am, official opening time, to find the door open and Aimee and a helper inside setting things up. The new tablecloths were in place, but the food delivery was a bit late so the serveuse was going to pick up the salad fixin's on her way into work. After hugging and jumping up and down a bit with Aimee, I took some photos and she made me my first cup of tea -- I was the first customer!

The delivery arrived and was sorted and put away... Aimee and the ladies started chopping crudités for salads and continuing to get organized. Fortunately, this tea shop had been in operation for some time and has a regular clientele, and the serveuse is a "legacy" employee, very experienced and pleasant. When starting out in the restaurant business it's always easier to take over an existing successful business, and then little by little you can adjust it to your own tastes once you get into the swing of things.

I sipped my wonderful tea, gazing out the window at passers-by and neighborhood activity. The restau on the adjacent corner started to open up for business, the owner out front scrubbing the entry pavement with a brush while simultaneously smoking and talking to her mignon little terrier. The dog seemed to know all the neighbors, who stopped to speak to it or pat it on the head as he stood in the doorway watching his small world with great excitement: the "guard dog" of the Butte aux Cailles... at least in HIS mind. A woman walked by, stuffing a large bottle of wine into her oversized purse; I found myself hoping that wasn't going to be her entire lunch, but you never know. An upstairs neighbor shook the dust out of a small carpet... never minding the people below walking by. A typical Parisian neighborhood.

As lunch time rolled around, I decided to stay and enjoy something off the menu. The menu is very light and suitable to a tea shop: salads, small quiches, desserts and of course dozens of varieties of tea to choose from (as well as great coffee and other soft drinks) so if you're into eating light and fairly healthy at lunch, this is a great place to go. I chose a feuilleté chèvre, salad crudités et fromage, and it was just wonderful.

During the first hour or so, I was the sole customer, but in the past the café didn't open until noon so the locals probably didn't realize they could come in an hour earlier. And prime time for tea shops if, of course, afternoon tea. But as 12:30 approached, a man came in -- clearly a regular because he bise'd (uh, that's "kissed on both cheeks") the two helpers and greeted Aimee with a handshake before installing himself at a table, as comfortable as can be. A woman followed, coming in to purchase her favorite tea to take home. And so it began, with people in pairs, mostly, coming in for their lunch and some tea. I could see it was going to be a very good first day and Aimee was so thrilled to see so many people already.

After finishing my lunch I decided I should give up the table to make room for whomever might come in next and want to enjoy a nice meal or revitalizing cup of tea before heading back to their daily grind. Aimee was just glowing, and it warmed my own heart to see her happiness in having made this big dream a reality. I can tell she's going to be great at this, and I can't wait to see the little touches and improvements she will add on her own, over time.

Bring your writing, your laptop (WiFi access coming soon), your knitting or your favorite book, and go and enjoy! It's lovely, and so is the smiling new propriétaire!

L'Oisive Thé
1, rue Jean-Marie Jégo, 75013 Paris
http://loisivethe.wordpress.com/

Open 7 days a week, brunch menu on Sundays

You can also read about it on The Paris Blog. And read Aimee's account of her first day (with a photo of her first customer - me!)

123ème page

Ah, I have been tagged for a meme that has been making the rounds of some of my favorite Paris blogs, and it's one about what I'm reading! (Thanks to La Page Française for the tap on the shoulder.) So how can I refuse to do something that requires me to read? Here goes:

A) Pick up the nearest book of 123 pages or more.

B) Find page 123.

C) Find the first 5 sentences and read them.

D) Post the next 3 sentences.

OK, I'm already reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert but I'm only on page 41 thus far, so I think this qualifies. Plus, it was the physically nearest book to me in the room (Step A), a room where the majority of my OTHER books are already packed in boxes for my impending cross-town starting-a-new-life move. So I'm glad I had ANY book handy to do this meme, quite frankly.

I have found Page 123 (Step B). Excuse me for a moment while I do Step C...

...

Well. THAT was interesting. I landed smack-dab in the midst of the author's "Pray" part of the book, where she is in India seeking greater spiritual understanding. And what I am reading is not only very profound but a good spiritual smack on the head for me this morning. I don't believe in coincidences so I can only assume the Universe meant for me to read this, right now. Thank you, Universe. I needed that.

However, of the (Step D) three sentences I am meant to post here, two of those are one or two words only. So I also grabbed the two full sentences afterward for a total of five (I'm all about bending the rules anyway):

OK -- so we are all one, and divinity abides within us all equally. No problem. Understood. But now try living from that place. Try putting that understanding into practice twenty-four hours a day.

Why this is a good reminder for me now is that there happens someone who is in the periphery of my life who has been negatively impacting certain aspects of my life through her actions. This person is not a friend, nor even an acquaintance, and in fact I have neither met nor spoken to her. Yet there are things she is doing that are affecting me and people I care about very much. And there is nothing I can do about it, at least in terms of getting her to change her behavior. People are like that sometimes; they're going to do what they're going to do, whether we like it or not. And no, I am not talking about Hillary Clinton.

What we CAN do when faced with a flat-out difficult person or a person who is acting out of his or her own personal pain (in this case, I think it's more the latter) -- and what Page 123 reminded me of -- is to try to live from a place of understanding that spiritually, we ARE all the same. Equal. We are one, not many. We are connected, not separate. When we are negative about or hurtful towards another person, we are actually directing that negativity towards ourselves, i.e. we are only hurting ourselves. The reason people go out and hurt other people, whether it is interpersonal conflict or something on a larger scale, like war, is because most people either don't know this, don't believe it, or have forgotten that when they hurt others, they are only hurting themselves. Think what the world could be like if everyone knew this and acted accordingly?

So while I cannot change this other person, and while she may continue to behave in hurtful ways (because she believes she is justified, I'm sure), what I "get" after reading the three five lines is that my only job in all this is to do my best NOT to send that negativity back to her. In other words, I have to stop thinking negatively about this other person, as hard as that might be at times -- if for no other reason than that negativity on my part only hurts ME. What I put out there always comes back to me, so I have to be more aware of what I am contributing to the situation. All I can control is my own feelings and point of view. She might continue to behave in destructive and hurtful ways, but I can choose to believe the situation can and will improve, and quickly. I can believe she is capable of being better than this. I can send out love and positive energy even in the face of someone who, for her own reasons, is not able to be in a loving and positive place right now. It might not be easy for me to "come from love" when someone else would probably prefer that I disappear altogether, but that is what I need to do.

Hmmm, who can I tag? Who's left who hasn't maybe already been tagged? Ah... Kyliemac (in an effort to get her to actually BLOG something instead of podcasting it), Frenchless in France (whom I realize is probably meeting her new grandchild in America right now and may not be able to do this for weeks), and Planethalder (because I liked her last comment so much). I hope they make some profound or at least interesting discoveries on page 123 of whatever book they're reading next. 

Forward

I have one predominant thought in my head right now. It beats a lovely rhythm as I walk down the street from the pharmacie (where I am proud to say I discussed my medical business 100% en français and managed fine). As I do the laundry, clean the apartment, check my email, take some Advil for the remnants of an annoying migraine, and prepare to spend the day writing for some clients, this thought is always there, in the back of my mind, ever since yesterday morning when we decided the time is now.

Living with Georges. Living with Georges. Living with Georges.

And I can't stop smiling.

In the next few weeks I will be packing up my few boxes of books, suitcases of clothing, and assorted and sundry STUFF. We will rent a small van, load it up, drive it all across town, and unload it. I will unpack and set up my work space. We will rearrange closets to make room for my things. I will change the address on my French bank account (the only regular French mail I get here). And that will be that. Georges and I will be officially living together.

Phase I of our relationship is moving forward into Phase II. Other important Phases are yet to come, of course, but hey, one thing at a time.

To put this in perspective, it is important to remember that I have been SINGLE for all of my 46 years. And I was good at being single; I must have been good at it because it seemed I was out of relationships much more than I was in them, despite my occasional insistence that I really wanted to be "in a real relationship". Only once in all that time did I sort of semi-live with someone, and that was more about him hanging around my place 4 nights out of 7 without the benefit of kicking in for the rent or groceries. (I'm smarter now.) I have been alone and fending for myself for my entire adult life.

Is it hard to give up that independence for a completely different life with a man AND his children? Surprisingly, no. I mean, I am sure there will be days, at least initially, where I am inwardly craving some alone time or some quiet in the house, and in terms of working there (since I work at home), THAT will take some adjustments. But Georges and I want to be with each other all the time now, and I want that far more than I want to hang onto some outdated need for my so-called Freedom.

Wow, will you look at me? I'm suddenly a grown-up, ready to put down roots and be part of a family, after all this time. It's as much a surprise to me as it probably is to those who know me well. But instead of feeling anxious or worrying about the transition (which I know will have some bumpy spots in the road, as all transitions do), I am just plain HAPPY right now. We have been talking about doing this since the very early days of our relationship, and now it is finally the right time for all concerned. (And for those who are going to comment with your worries about the kids... their readiness and comfort has always been our primary concern, and they are fine with it and with me. Had there not been kids involved, we'd have moved in together two months ago probably.)

I can't think of anything better than to spend my life with this amazing and loving man who -- as I discovered last night while we were watching Roman Holiday -- bears a striking resemblance to Gregory Peck in this movie, especially around the eyes. Of course I loved Georges long before realizing he and Greg have the same eyes, so this is just a bonus for me.

So a new chapter of my life, of OUR life, is about to begin. The story continues to unfold. And I can't wait to turn the page.

If only in my dreams

I'll be home for Christmas...

One of the reasons I've been mainly posting photos the past few days is that I really haven't felt like writing. I've been doing things in preparation for my trip, working on some client projects, and getting in that "one last" drink, movie, coffee or dinner with friends here in Paris before I jet back to NJ on Thursday, so I've definitely been keeping busy, and blog posting has had to take a back seat.

You can count on me...

But the main reason I've been posting on the lighter side is that I've just been too emotional to come up with anything all that entertaining. You see, Georges has been away for the past week on his business trip in snowy Montréal, and (YAY!) he comes back tomorrow. I am completely thrilled about his return and so eager to be able to just touch him again, to just be in the same room, that I can't even find the words. Everywhere I have gone the past five days, I have seen romantic couples of all ages, holding hands as they walk down the crowded sidewalks, cuddling on the métro, gazing adoringly at each other over a kir or a coffee, and missing Georges all the more because if he were here, THAT WOULD BE US. We have been using our web cams to talk every morning, and occasionally in the late evenings, too, and believe me when I say -- if you are far apart from the one you love, being able to at least SEE him on your little computer screen makes a WORLD of difference in coping with his absence. It really HAS helped. Although somehow, reaching out to caress his face on a screen isn't at all as fulfilling as the real thing. But it's better than just the phone or email or IM chat, at least.

Please have snow, and mistletoe...

Yet, as happy as I have been to see Georges on-line every day, and as excited as I am about his pending rentrée less than 24 hours from now, in the back of my mind I am ever-conscious that we have such a tiny amount of time together -- just two short evenings -- before an airport shuttle van picks me and my half-empty suitcases up at 6:20am on Thursday morning, and whisks me away from mon amoureux for 19 days. Nineteen long, cold, lonely days without my central-loving sweetie. I am not someone who suffers from the "holiday blues" as a rule, but this enough to bring out the Bah-Humbug in me.

...and presents on the tree.

Every day this past week when Georges and I have been doing our web cam visits, there has come a point where my eyes inevitably fill up with tears. Sometimes, I am just moved to tears by how much love I see in his face --  being loved so deeply still overwhelms me at times. But what I have realized (other than that Georges is the most loving, patient and sensitive man I've ever met because my emotional nature doesn't seem to put him off one bit) is that I haven't been crying just because I miss him NOW, while he's in Montréal. I mean, I HAVE missed him terribly, but that's not always why I'm weeping.

Christmas eve will find me...

It's because I know what's ahead... the BIG separation. And it's one thing to be without the one you love for just a few days over the course of a business trip. It's another thing entirely to do the math and realize that we will have been separated for a total of 24 days this entire month!

Where the love light gleams...

He tells me, "You are so brave, my love" and I'm all, "No [sniffle] I'm NOT brave. I don't feel brave at all. I just feel sad. I don't want to leave."  It's just too soon. Too soon in our relationship to contemplate this much time apart. I know there is nothing to be done about it now. Shoulda, woulda, coulda... I probably could have altered my non-refundable ticket weeks ago for a fee and shaved just a few days off my trip, but at the time we discussed it and decided to leave it as is. Now, it's just too late to change my plans.

I'll be home for Christmas...

Logically, I know, of course, that we will get through this month, and it will be fine in the end. We are mature adults. We will manage. We will have things to do and happy holiday events to go to, and people to spend time with. I have planned a small gift to give Georges before I go, that he will open on Christmas (and not ONE MOMENT SOONER!) so that even if we can't BE together, we can open a gift together on the web cam. So we are trying to be creative about this, our time apart, and make the best of it. And seriously, lest you think I am without any sense of bigger perspective, I know full well that there are many people who are separated from THEIR loved ones for long, lonely months and even years, and under much more difficult circumstances than this, and I have never felt as connected to the families of service men and women as I do right now. I know that 24 days, in the grand scheme of our future life together, is just a drop in the bucket, and we should consider ourselves lucky. I know this is true. I know it. I do.

If only in my dreams.

But knowing it, and FEELING o.k. about it, are two different things entirely. Because this is our first Christmas, me and Georges. And we can't be together, except in our dreams... and with a little help from technology. I am resigned to it, it is just the way it has to be, and it is no one's fault -- it just IS. There is no quantity of chocolate, Christmas cookies, playing with the puppy and spiked eggnog big enough to compensate for not being able to be with him for nearly 3 weeks, not to be able to wake up next to him on Christmas morning. I love my family and friends in NJ, and I will be so happy to see them and I know I'll have fun once I'm there... but my life -- and my heart -- is here now. Because HE is my life, and he is going to be here. Georges IS "home" for me now.

And I am not at all liking the prospects of leaving home.

Seeking terra firma

I know I don't post a lot about my work -- the stuff that pays the bills, the writing-for-hire and web design projects -- or my clients, mainly because there is always a chance one of them will be reading the blog and I want to keep our work together confidential and professional, and that is as it should be. Nor would I ever be likely to bitch and moan about a client or project on this blog -- I do not bite the hand that feeds me. I am very fortunate, though, to have really wonderful clients. They are never unreasonable or overly demanding, they are generally very pleasant and creative people, I tend to develop long-term working relationships with most of them, and some have become true friends. This is one of the reasons I left corporate life and decided to fly solo nine years ago this month, despite the financial unpredictability that is a part of self-employment: I wanted to be able to CHOOSE with whom I would or would not work rather than having a bad client tossed in my lap and being unable to do a thing about it.

That being said, my clients are not saints with unlimited reserves of patience, nor should they be expected to wait infinitely for me to do the work they've hired me to do, simply because two weeks ago TODAY (WOW, vraiment? Only 2 weeks? It feels like forever... or at least, a long while) I stepped off a bus and into the arms of a man I think I have waited my entire life to meet. I have been gingerly letting my clients in on the new circumstances in my life, not because I like to make a habit of mixing my personal life with my work, but because I feel I owe them SOME kind of explanation for missing deadlines, forgetting to do things they've asked me to do days ago, and forcing them to follow up with me when it should be the other way around. I could make excuses, but I feel the truth is always the best way to go. And so, I've told them: I fell in love with a Very Wonderful Man (and Yes, He is French), that it hit me (us) hard, and that it has taken me a few days to put my feet on solid ground again.

Fortunately, these clients are the kind of people who can be genuinely happy for me even while they are understandably concerned about my attention span at the moment.

Today, I got up early and hit the ground running. I feel productive again for the first since coming back from New Jersey at the beginning of the month. I admit, I am mainly motivated by the fact that the rent is due next week, but also because my personal integrity drives me to want to deliver on what I've promised to these clients.

I am reminded of the transition and adjustment I had to make in 1998 when I first left corporate life. As a corporate "golden girl" (someone with a reputation for always getting the job done, done fast and done well), I never had trouble meeting deadlines -- they were a part of my life in Information Technology, and I was good at being "deadline driven". Being out on my own, I was surprised that I did not immediately carry that same "drive" with me as a free agent. For the first couple of months, I felt like I was on an extended vacation of sorts, and had trouble getting myself into a good working rhythm for a long time. Eventually, it got better and I re-learned how to be productive again.

I think I'm in the same place again, now, of having to re-train myself to be productive under new circumstances. This is what happens to all of us when we are facing a major life transition of any kind, be it a positive change (new love, exciting new job, new child, new city) or a negative one (job loss, ending a relationship, children growing up and leaving, death of a loved one).

Someone significant, delicious and merveilleux has come into my life, without warning or fanfare but with great speed and force; love has knocked me off my feet, and my equilibrium is off. (Do not mistake this for a complaint!) My task now is to re-balance, to re-define what "balance" is going to look like now. And this is just the initial adjustment I have ahead of me: how to make good on the commitments I have made to the people who are paying me for my expertise, while carving out a much larger chunk of time for my personal life, which still must include friends as well as mon amour. There are going to be more adjustments ahead as we build something together, more situations where I will have to re-balance, and re-balance again. And so will he.

So the first step for me this week is to turn more attention to my work again, as much as I would much rather spend the day thinking about or being with him. But we live in the "real world" and it demands some attention, too. Tant pis pour nous, les amoreux, but there it is. Voila!

Life is full of these transitional moments, and change is the only consistent thing. So, you figure out how to flow with it and adjust, no matter what the situation, even (especially!) when the situation is a deep and growing love. And eventually, you can put your feet on terra firma again.

At least... until the next time life requires you to tread water.

One Week

A week ago today, I didn't know it at the time, but I was meeting a man who is unlike any man I have ever met before. And I do not exaggerate. I stepped off the #89 Paris city bus, found myself looking into the eyes of a man I had never met, and sensing instant mutual recognition. Five minutes later, I was being kissed by someone who was technically a stranger, but someone who I felt I'd already known my whole life, even before we had officially met. Hours later, we were still together, discovering each other, unwilling to be apart. We weren't thinking "love" then, but whatever it was, we were both willing to ride the wave.

At the time, all I could do was marvel at how strange it should feel, but didn't, to be having that kind experience. And it wasn't just about being swept away by physical chemistry (although that was definitely there, right from the start). There was complete mental, intellectual and emotional compatibility, too. "Wow" was all I could think. My brain went into auto-pilot. I was fully aware of where I was, and what I was doing, and it all felt perfectly fine, natural. I had no worries about him, none. I intuitively trusted him, despite having no concrete "evidence" or knowledge about him, and certainly no idea of what would happen later.

Which is a pretty strange thing for me, as someone who has an almost compulsive need to over-analyze new relationships from the get-go. It's always: "What's he thinking? Does he really like me? Is he going to turn out to be one of the good ones? What did he mean by THAT, that thing he just said? Why hasn't he called yet?" On and on, ad nauseum. I am the type who could make a career out of making myself crazy with a new guy... and not crazy in the good way, either. I am a woman who has always felt totally "together" in nearly every other area of her life, except in my ability to find, create and sustain a wonderful, loving relationship with a man.

Until now. Now, I know what I've been missing all this time... you know, for the past 30 years (the amount of time I've been dating, since I was 16).

A week later, here we are. IN LOVE. Yes, in love. With each other. Not one-sided. No games. No tricks. No withholding of information. Totally at ease with each other. Accepting of one other's foibles, imperfections, ways. Completely comfortable, including being comfortable with the fact that there is still a lot we don't know and many things that need to be dealt with before we could have the kind of relationship we really want.

Whether or not either of us set out looking for this 10 days ago when we first connected, this is where we are now. And we are in it. A couple. Whatever that is going to mean.

Logical, caring, well-meaning people I respect have been cautioning me to "be careful" and "don't take it too fast" and "don't forget, you don't really KNOW him yet", even while they are happy for me to have found someone. I appreciate their concern for my welfare, I really do. It is perfectly sensible, what they are saying. And in any other situation, I would be the first to second those words of caution. Outside of "movie-love", where the two lead characters on screen gaze across a room and "know" they are "meant to be", I have been a bit skeptical of that whole bit about "knowing" you have met the right person for you. Love At First Sight, yes, I can believe in that, and have even experienced something like it in the past. But THAT "love" turned out to be fraught with insecurity and anxiety right from the beginning, even though the love was genuine, such as it could be. I wanted that guy, loved that guy, but never felt I knew with certainty that the guy and I were really right for each other.

Now, I know. This is the first time I've ever had this sense of complete confidence in being with someone; the confidence of knowing exactly how he feels, of never having to guess -- because he is constantly telling me, showing me. He is the most emotionally open man I've ever met. We are at a place in just seven days that it can take other people weeks or months to reach, and some of them never do. Even the fact that there is so much to be cleaned up, worked through, and discovered isn't putting either one of us off. I may wonder or worry slightly about certain aspects of what the future might bring, of certain decisions that will have to be faced in time, but I have NO fears about HIM and how he feels about me. None. THAT in itself is a testament to what we already have between us. We can't explain it, and have decided not to try anymore, because there is no "why".

It just IS.

And that is enough for me and My Parisian. Gros bisous, chéri.   

Wink, wink... nudge, nudge

I got a bit of a "wink" from the Universe yesterday afternoon, one that further supports my view that when we are willing to let go of something that isn't working in our lives, something better will always show up, and often very quickly. I received a very interesting e-mail from a new Meetic guy, who lives in Avignon in the south. The letter was written entirely en français, but I was able to get the gist of it with the help of my trusty Larousse. In the letter, this 51-year-old man (older than me, for a change) really took the trouble to be creative in his approach to getting my attention -- and it worked. Most men will write just a few simple lines, like "Hi beautiful, want to have a drink?" or "Here's my cell phone, call me" as their oh-so-originale opening line, but without much effort to be remarkable on their part. And for some silly reason, they all seem to think I want to be called "Princess". Yet I am not a pink French poodle. So give this man points for NOT resorting to the nauseous-making "Princess". Ick and double-ick.

Monsieur Avignon is a Taurus and a writer (ditto and ditto), both of which contributed, I'm sure, to the above average quality of the letter. I am often captivated by men who can express themselves well in writing; it's how my last serious boyfriend got my attention. Good communications skills are a turn-on for me, and this guy was able to get me to take notice without pouring it on too thick or insulting my intelligence.

Instead, he painted a picture (with words) of the distance between us making it perhaps a bit difficult to enjoy a cappucino together in a café in a "perched village" while watching the sun set over the Lubéron (sounds delightful!) But the distance, he said, was not insurmountable; he comes to Paris periodically, and spoke of having a soft spot for the gardens at the Rodin museum (also one of my favorites here in Paris) and being able to enjoy a hot chocolate together in a cozy corner of "Lutetia" (the old Roman name for Paris - which I knew). Avignon (also of Roman origins) is only 2 hours away by TGV, so that's not the end of the world -- not convenient, perhaps, but not the worst example of LDR I've ever heard of (after all, AussieLass and her Prince Charmant were half a world away, and THEY somehow managed to get together and eventually get hitched; when one is very motivated, anything is possible). Monsieur Avignon even has a PhD and reads Socrates, but seems to have a sense of humor about it. OK... he's got me there; an intellectual, I'm not -- whenever I see the name "Socrates", I still flash back to Keanu Reeves in Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, calling the great philosopher "SO-craytes". But maybe he could do with a dose of someone in his life with an earthier sense of humor. He's a non-smoker, divorced and has no/wants no children (check, check and check). He's tall enough, fit enough, attractive enough (assuming his photo is accurate). So far, on paper, he's stacking up pretty well.

I have no idea if he speaks, reads, writes or understands English at all, and if he doesn't, this will definitely go no further, as we will be unable to communicate beyond my pitiful grasp of French -- which enables me to go shopping, order a meal in a restaurant, ask for directions and comment on conversational topics at the level of a 7-year old. Beyond that, I'm sunk. I couldn't construct a meaningful and coherent thought in French if my life depended on it. I had enough difficulty conversing with French Gardener, and he wasn't an egg-head, pas du tout.

This is an intriguing development on the romance front, but I'm not writing about it because I necessarily think it is going to be "anything" -- geez, not after just one e-mail, albeit a really good e-mail. I'm writing about it because, whether or not this goes any further than one terrific e-mail, receiving this letter within 24 hours of my mentally and emotionally writing off the French Gardener is like getting a little nudge from the Universe, telling me: YES, there is something better out there. There are interesting, creative, grown-up men with wit and charm who know how to talk to a woman, even when they may not be able to talk in her native language. They are motivated to make an effort. If they want something, they go for it.

This is why it pays not to clutter up your life with stuff that isn't working. Cut bait, move on, and clear the decks for whatever is coming next. Wink, wink... nudge, nudge.

It's about the journey, not the destination

The #1 question I have been asked, since first deciding to move to Paris (a decision that was made in my mind and heart over three years ago) and finally having done it last year, is:  "Why?" I get that question a lot less these days now that I've been here a while, but sometimes when I encounter someone new (like a new client who calls my American number and then finds out I'm actually HERE), it surfaces again.

My standard answer, a simple "Because I love it and I've always wanted to live there", for some reason doesn't ever seem to satisfy the askers, who generally respond with an: "Oh", and then a pause that speaks volumes, as in "Oh, well that's nice for you I guess, but honestly I don't see why on earth you'd want to do THAT! What a strange thing for you to want to do." And I know that answer doesn't even come close to cutting it for some of the people closest to me, who would much prefer it if I said: "Oh, I just want to go there for a little while and get it out of my system, and then I'll be back". (But I understand... and I miss you all, too.)

When people ask that question, there is almost always a subtle hint of judgment in it. When I hear the "Why?" asked in that certain tone of voice, I know what's behind it: utter disbelief. Sometimes it's a mild case of surprise, and other times the disbelief is so palpable you'd think I just told them I enjoy picking my nose in public as a hobby -- there's just that hint of distaste in their voices or facial expressions. Once I even had someone physically recoil at the very idea of meeting someone who would actually choose France as a place to live, it was that shocking to them.

The majority of the people who need to ask "Why?" are those who either don't think Paris or France is their idea of a great place to live (usually because they believe all the stories they've heard about the French being difficult but they've never actually MET anyone French), or because they just aren't the sort of people who would even consider living abroad anywhere. I don't mind that these people DON'T like France or DON'T want to try living abroad. But they clearly mind that I DO. C'est la vie, I suppose.

On the other hand, someone who totally "gets it" -- this (to some) outrageous thing I've done, this packing up my life and moving here -- would never need to ask the big "Why?" The ones who get it, they seem to understand that inner need to see and do and explore different things. They don't even necessarily have to be a die-hard francophone or even have ever visited or want to visit France to be on the same page with me on this, although often it transpires that they're as crazy about the place as I am and they want to swap travel stories. These are people who, upon learning where I'm now living, have the immediate reaction of "WOW! That's so great!" and then they want to hear all about it. Maybe they're armchair travelers who just enjoy hearing about other places even if they might never have the opportunity or desire to go there, I don't know. I just know that with people like this, there's never a "Why?" attached to their reaction unless it's asked from a place of genuine interest and curiosity to know what inspired a single woman in her mid-40s to do such an unusual thing.

Even after I've been here for some months now, it's still hard for me to articulate what it is about Paris and France that attracts me so, because it's not just one thing. I could say it's the ambiance. Or the lifestyle. The challenge of learning the beautiful language, or the access to the the art and culture Paris offers. I could say it's a desire to explore the varied regions and architecture of France. I could say it's France's central location in Europe that makes it easier to travel to other places I want to see. All of these would be true statements. I've even gone so far as to quip that I think it must be a past-life thing because I really can't offer a concrete explanation as to why I've wanted to live here even before I'd ever visited. My attempts to explain the "why" aren't even satisfactory to ME. After all, how do you explain to someone, "I had no choice"?

Because my desire to come here goes beyond just my great and genuine love of Paris and France in general. Henry Miller (who wrote his most famous works while living as an ex-pat in Paris in the 1930s) once said,

"One's destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things."

In the past few years I've discovered something about myself: the truth. And the truth is that I seem to be someone who is far more interested in having a changing view, a "new way of looking at things", than I am in staying in one place for any length of time, even though it means leaving people I love and all things familiar and "safe". Most people in their 40s are, understandably, settled in their lives and work, and naturally they enjoy the secure feeling of having a place to call home even if they, too, have a certain wanderlust; I'm too busy looking at the horizon to care about that kind of security. Others are happy to satisfy their periodic curiosity about the world by packing a suitcase and taking a vacation; that's no longer enough for me. I want more.

I think I've always been this way; in the past I've exercised this trait by hopping from town to town in my home state of New Jersey every few years. I didn't consciously change residences for the sake of change -- the reasons always seemed necessary under the circumstances, such as not being able to find a roommate or wanting a shorter commute to work. And for five years I bought and lived in a condo, so I did make an effort to put down some roots, although on some level I knew even that was going to be temporary. But on reflection I can see that, short of not enjoying the moving process itself (packing and unpacking is hell), each time I moved I looked forward to the change of scenery and the chance to start something new and fresh. The towns I lived in were all within 30 minutes of one another and of my family's home town, so it's not that the ACTUAL scenery was any different, but with each move I had something new to experience. I enjoyed making each apartment into a home for myself, but within several years I'd be getting restless, and then something would happen that would give me an excuse to move again.

I've been the same way in my professional life, now that I stop to think about it. I've changed professions several times, from clerical/secretarial work, to computer programming/web design, to life coaching, and now to writing (although I think this one's gonna stick!) Even within my corporate I.T. career, I was always looking for the next great project, the next promotion -- I was known, upon hearing good news of a promotion, to ask my boss in the same conversation what I needed to do in order to achieve the NEXT level up!

I guess it's fair to say, I don't just LIKE change, I THRIVE on it. Sure, I have times even here in Paris, like this week, when I'm perfectly happy to hole up here at "home" sometimes for days on end, where I can do my thing in peace and quiet, so I do have those typical Taurean moments of being something of a homebody. But for the most part, I feel happiest when I'm out around people, with friends, seeing or doing something interesting and new. Curiosity may have killed the cat but it keeps me feeling alive!

So perhaps it's appropriate, even natural, that now I'm taking my "roving eye" on the road -- where it belongs! Yes, it's true, I don't have all the comforts of "home" with me here, where I'm living in a furnished rental (albeit a very lovely one) with only a small amount of my personal belongings, the rest sitting in a storage locker "back home". I do miss my family and my friends... but my need to challenge myself and to see, hear and experience new places is stronger than my desire to be with them and to have a place to call "home".

On occasion, when I'm talking to one of my friends or a family member, they'll ask me when I think I'll be back "for good", and I can hear the unspoken fear in their voices (or sometimes they'll come right out and say it: "You're never coming back, are you?") And the truth is, I don't know how to answer them because I don't want to upset them and because I don't really have an answer right now.

I know I'm not ready to go back yet for more than a visit. I suspect it will be some long while before I'm ready to even consider doing that. And I know that if and when I do decide to go back to the U.S. "for good", it won't be to live in New Jersey again (I'm thinking Boston might be nice, I've always liked Boston).

I'm not even sure I want to stay in France "permanently", although so far I'm very comfortable considering everything. Just yesterday I was noticing with some amusement how effortless it is for me to find my way around the city now, even to places I haven't been to before, which is kind of funny when I consider I used to live totally dependent on my car and even a day-trip to NYC gave me anxiety what with figuring out how I was going to get in, out and around the city -- I hated public transportation that much.

I'm settled IN here right now, for the time being, but I haven't settled DOWN. Not here, not yet. And maybe not anywhere. Maybe I'll have to be a whole lot older before I finally decide I'd rather have a comfortable chair and my "shows" on TV more than I'd rather see the Matterhorn or Venice or Santori or The Great Wall or Uluru. I suspect that if I DO settle down somewhere, that decision will be influenced entirely by love, although I'm hoping that any man I fall that much in love with that I'd consider staying put somewhere, will be as in love with seeing the world with me by his side as he is in love with me.

Or maybe I'll never really settle down in the usual sense. Maybe I'll be one of those fantastic and fascinating seniors who gets on a plane or a cruise ship with her laptop (think of it, we'll be an entire generation of computer-savvy white-haired people with bladder-control issues), her walker and some extra-strength Tylenol for her arthritis, and takes off for a safari in Kenya so she can see elephants and giraffes and lions and write about it afterward. I'll be the Adventurous Aunt who brings all the kids interesting souvenirs from far-off places and who writes award-winning best-sellers based on her travels, like the time she got propositioned by the Prime Minister of Some Foreign Country and had to throw a glass of ice water down his trousers to set him straight. Yes, I like the idea of being THAT woman.

It's taken me months to think it through clearly and to put the truth out there, but here it is. The REAL answer to the "Why?" is this: because I have to. I have to if I'm going to be true to myself. I have to if I'm going to live my life authentically and be my own person. I have to if I'm going to be whole in my soul and at peace with myself. I have to despite the fact that I know it upsets and stresses some people I love dearly.

The alternative is unacceptable: to be less than the person I know I am and the person I have the potential to BE. To do anything less than living the way I'm living right now, as insecure as it may be, would be like trying to live someone else's life. And I already pretty much did that up until... well, now. Until fairly recently, I didn't know just how much I was NOT being my true self back home, and it's only now with some time and distance I can see just how "in deep" I was. I wasn't being "fake", not on purpose anyway, but I WAS caught in the perennial trap of often living up (or down) to the expectations and wishes of others. They live their lives a certain way with certain goals and priorities, a way that is perfectly fine -- for them -- and it's taken me this long to realize that their way is just not my way, not any more. I don't blame them, and I don't even really blame myself; I think it was part of wanting to fit in with and please people you love, and we all do that in one way or another. I don't think that this was a conscious thing, although my growing unhappiness the past couple of years definitely showed me that a drastic change was necessary for my well-being. I love my family and enjoy being with them... but I don't fit into that life in suburban New Jersey. I grew up there, and it's a fine place to grow up and to live and work and raise a family, and I am grateful to have so many people there who care about me. But I don't fit in there now. And I was just. Plain. Miserable. Trying. (Whew. There, I said it.)

I'm not miserable any more.

I'm content and at peace all of the time, damn happy most of the time, and sometimes I'm downright disgustingly blissful. I feel free for the first time in a long time. I feel like I can be myself. I know I made the right decision in coming here. The future may be a giant question mark and things are not perfect, but life is very, very good. I hope knowing this -- that I'm happy -- makes up, in part, for the disappointment of those who would much rather hear me say that I hate it and I'm packing up and coming back some time soon. I know they may not like or understand my reasons for being here, but I also know they love me and want me to be happy; they just want me to be happy closer by. And that's OK.

What I know for sure right now is that there are far worse things in life than not knowing what's down the road. I may stop and stay here in France for a long time. Or I may not. I'm OK with not even knowing that myself right now, because I trust I'll know when the time is right to decide where "home" will be next.

And in the meantime, in the words of Muriel Rukeyser:

"The journey is my home."

Silencing Censorship

The Venezuelan opposition TV station that was silenced this week by the Chavez government has found new ways to keep broadcasting where their government has no control: YouTube and a TV station in Columbia. I laughed out loud when I read about the YouTube connection because it's so wonderfully devious and creative of the journalists at the station to leverage the Internet in this way to keep getting their message to as many people as they can. The station may be down, but it's not out.

Chavez has accused the station of supporting the 2002 botched coup and refused to renew its license which has expired. He also accused them of being "capitalists" -- we know how much he LOVES capitalism. There's another station in Venezuela that is at risk of also being shut down for the same reason: opposition to Chavez and his policies.

It does seem that no matter how many power-crazed, arrogant, brutal, megalomaniac dictators (and control-freak near-dictators who go by other job titles) the world creates, and then deposes, another one always seems to come along. These men (and it seems they're ALWAYS men, doesn't it?) aren't created alone... they appear, with their lies and hidden agendas and greedy hunger for power, and start planting the seeds of fear and distrust, and the rest of us ALLOW them to grow to positions of great power and influence to the point where they can wreak havoc on the lives of their own people.

Kind of makes you wonder: when will the human race wise up and stop giving their power away? Maybe it starts with something as simple as using YouTube to fight censorship and free speech.

Plain and Simple

I haven't always been someone who can slow down enough to appreciate doing things the plain and simple way. Throughout much of my life, I've perhaps sometimes often consistently overcomplicated things more than I've needed to. I think most people, at least in western cultures, do this, but Americans in particular are famous for it. This is why we feel we need to live to work rather than work to live. We don't seem to embrace the idea of keeping things plain and simple; instead we think the more we pile on, the more valuable and important we become. It's downright sad, if you ask me.

That's the plain and simple truth.

Traveling has taught me that there are different ways to live, and that the rush-rush-rush of the uber-busy American lifestyle isn't always best, not all the time at least. When you're so busy you can't stop to notice your own life and whether or not you're even happy with that life, then that's a problem. When you're so busy being busy that slowing down feels painful, that's also a problem.

Plain and simple.

Being in France, I'm learning to notice that there are ways to balance being productive (rather than being busy for busy's sake) with enjoying the plain and simple things. Take café-sitting for example: whether you're alone or with friends, sitting in a café while watching people walk by is endlessly fascinating. I don't take a book or my laptop when I do this, and I don't listen to my iPod; I just enjoy my coffee or my salad and fresh bread, and watch whatever is passing by at the time. Then I can go back to my work feeling energized and refreshed, the better for having taken the time to relax and just BE. It's not always about the "doing".

The plain and simple stuff is growing on me.

While on my recent short holiday to Provence, I loved just being able to sit and read a novel in the late afternoon on the terrace, periodically stopping to enjoy the wonderful view down into the valley below. The view didn't change, but it never got old.

Things can be plain and simple, and still be interesting.

So now that I'm another year older and hopefully a whole lot wiser, I see that the quality of my life is more important to me than how much I'm packing into it. I'm redefining what is meaningful to me, and what I consider worthwhile and interesting. I'm choosing things differently and seeing the world differently.

And plain and simple is looking pretty darned good.

Intuitive connections

Today has been a day of reconnecting with people I haven't heard from in a very long while. And in ways that remind me that there are no coincidences in life, but there IS energy and intuition at work, always.

Yesterday out of the blue, I found myself thinking about Rolf, a Dutch/Canadian man who was one of my favorite life coaching clients of all time, someone I had the privilege of working with for about three years. He jets between Amsterdam, British Columbia and L.A. regularly, but we've never once managed to meet in person. We always said that if I was ever in Europe I would need to let him know so we could meet over here. So I was thinking just yesterday that I really should get in touch with him, and find out what he's been up to in the past few years (it's really been a long time since I've had the opportunity to connect with him). But I got caught up in doing other things, and never got around to sending that email. Then, of course, I totally forgot about it.

Until I got an email from Rolf this morning, telling me HE would like to arrange a time for us to finally meet, and to talk about a book he's interested in writing. So he's planning to come to Paris some time in June from Amsterdam! Is it odd that I was thinking about him yesterday for the first time in many months, and then heard from him today? I don't think it's odd; I think it's intuition at work.

Then I got an email this afternoon from Edie, who was my first life coach and mentor coach, back when I was a neophyte in the coaching industry. We became very good friends along the way, but since I left the life coaching profession we don't get to be in touch with each other much any more, and I haven't talked with Edie in who knows how long, but for sure not since I moved to Paris. She wrote to me to find out how I'm doing here in Paris, and I decided to pick up the phone and call her. During our conversation she revealed that her husband had recently misplaced his favorite "Paris" baseball cap that he got when they were here in 2000, and he was disappointed about losing it; and she wondered if I could pick one up and send it to her back in the U.S. Of course I'd be happy to do that, I said.

But the irony is, I was thinking about her, for the first time in a long time, just an hour before she emailed me, because I was talking to another unrelated person about how I use attraction and intuition in running and marketing my business, and how it works so much better for me than when I used to try to build my business using a competitive business model.

While I was describing my intuitive business model to this other person, I was thinking about Edie. It is Edie who was responsible for helping me tap into my intuitive side. When I first worked with her, I was a very linear thinker, a side effect of working in the information technology industry, and I was very resistant to this whole intuition thing. But Edie was a great role model for how intuition can play such a profound role in living our lives and making decisions, and over time I began to open my mind up to other ways of being and doing, and found that it worked great and felt a lot less stressful. Now whenever Edie is working with a client who is a resistant linear thinker, she tells them about me and refers to me as her "poster child" for just how MUCH a person can shift his/her thinking and approach to life -- and where it's gotten me.

At approximately the same time as I was thinking about Edie, SHE was online trying to find a replacement "Paris" cap for her husband, and not having a whole lotta luck, either. Then I popped into HER head, as she knew I was still in Paris. Our intuitive connection, still going strong!

So, two completely unexpected reconnections with people from my past in the same day. The linear folks might call it coincidence, but I know it's all about the intuitive energy connections between people. Just like when you're thinking of someone you know and the phone rings and they're on the other end.

Being so far away from my connections -- my friends and family -- back home, it sure is nice to know that when it comes to energy and intuition, distance is no barrier. We are ALWAYS connected, even if we can't be in the same room. Cool stuff, huh?

By the way, after I got done talking to Edie on the phone, I noticed that her email contained a quote I'd never heard before, from a highly respected coach and teacher whose work I have followed over the years. I even took a weekend workshop led by this man and have heard him speak on several other occasions.

The quote said:

"A life absent of boldness is a sure path to regret." -- Julio Olalla

Bold Rollers

There's no one, "right" way to live boldly. Some people manage to do things that I think are incredibly bold and that I'd never have the nerve to do myself. This is one of them:

On this Sunday afternoon, hundreds if not thousands of people were out for a roller-tour around the city. Almost no one wore helmets and few ever bothered with protective gear for hands, elbows and knees, despite the uneven city streets. They're either very good at roller-blading, or completely naive about their chances of rolling out of control into a statue of Voltaire or being broadsided by a motorcycle (although the cops do block off streets along the "parade" route for these events).

Seems like a totally cool way to tour the city, meet new people and get your exercise... but no one will ever get ME on rollerblades for the same reason I do not ice-skate: I suck at it as I basically suck at all sports. I'm clumsy, I've got weak ankles, and I am therefore dangerous. And falling down and giving myself a concussion on a Paris cobblestone is not my idea of a good time.

But more power to those who enjoy this kind of thing. Hope they didn't get caught in the rain that came along about an hour later!

To continue our discussion: "Victimhood"

OK, boys and girls... let's get down to it. I'm still jet-lagged but there's no time like the present and since the comments continue to flow and in some cases they've started to get pretty rude and nasty, I think it's time to say a few things.

After the mixed reaction to my last post, I've been stepping back in order to observe and process the negative responses even while at the same time I was very excited to have some of you write in and tell me you agree, or have had similar experiences, or were inspired in some way. It's always gratifying to find kindred spirits, and I thank you. To recap: This was a post in which the SOLE PURPOSE (or "soul purpose", perhaps) for writing it was because I was very excited about a very positive experience I was having in my life as a direct result of having learned and applied what is known as the Law of Attraction and what some people have now dubbed 'The Secret', and in which my intention for writing that post was to pass along that experience because it was just completely the coolest thing I've had happen to me in a long time and when you find something good I believe it's only right to share it in case someone else can benefit. So it was to focus on something POSITIVE, not to stir up controversy or to imply that I've got some exhalted knowledge of the unknown that the rest of the world is too stupid to understand. Believe me, I don't consider myself that self-important... I'm just sharing snapshots from my life, which is always what this blog has been about, and will continue to be about. If my life seems interesting to others, they'll come and read; if not, they'll move along and read something else. But either way, I get a lot of personal satisfaction from writing this blog and using it as a means of self-expression and clarification, and I will continue to write what is true for me regardless of whether anyone reads or agrees. I think we can all agree that this is a fair statement and you will not begrudge me the right to freedom of self-expression no matter what your own personal point of view happens to be about this, or anything I might happen to write. OK so far? Good.

I thought long and hard about how, or even whether, to respond to the (a) dissenting points of view, the (b) misquotes and flat out misrepresentations of my original words, beliefs and intentions, and (c) the inaccurate labeling of my character with some fairly nasty and in some cases pretty comical snipes. When someone decides to write something and put it out there for the public to see, that person is taking the risk of criticism, and has to be prepared that sooner or later, someone's going to take issue with something because people are like that. Everyone's got an opinion. Everyone sees the world through the filter of their own experiences. Sometimes that filter is clear and people see accurately; other times the filter is cloudy and dusty and the view is partially distorted or obscured completely. What *I* see clearly is that on the subject of this particular post, some of you saw me through cloudy filters and as such you did not clearly see ME -- what I was really saying, what I was really intending -- and as such jumped to some inaccurate conclusions. And others of you just plain don't agree even though you may see what I said clearly; well, that's OK, I have no problem with that.

As a writer with a blog in which I choose to voice my own opinions and to do so without the benefit of anonymity (that was my choice as well), I'm well aware there's a chance I might upset someone or downright piss people off at times, although the overall tone and topic of my blog is not really one that is all that controversial, unless of course you're someone that loves to hate the French. In responding to critical comments from blog readers, I am also taking a risk, because it's kind of a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" situation sometimes; if someone writes an intelligently thought out response where he or she disagrees with me, I think that deserves the respect of an answer of some kind, in the interest of allowing and even encouraging a healthy debate about an issue and to show there are at least 2 sides to every story. And even if I don't respond to every dissenting opinion, I always let your comments stand as written (except for the odd spam comment or trackback) because this is not a censored blog or a police state. In the world of The Bold Soul, all respectfully delivered opinions are welcomed and embraced because that is the kind of environment I want to foster here.

"Respectfully delivered opinions" is the operative phrase. Because on the other hand, if someone decides to twist my words, misrepresent my meaning, resort to name calling, labeling, character assassination and downright childish nastiness (last time I looked, I thought we were all adults here), then I'm sorry but I can't let that go. I'm not perfect and I'm not always right (are any of you?), and one of my pet peeves in life is having my words or meanings misunderstood or misrepresented either deliberately or inadvertently. As a writer, I take great care to try and express myself accurately and clearly so there will be no misinterpretation. Words are not only the basis for my profession, they are my joy and my gift in life, and I take them seriously. I may not always hit the mark on saying something the way I really mean it -- that's always a liability in writing versus face-to-face discussion -- but damn, people, I do my best to ensure NO confusion in my remarks. It appears this time I may not have quite hit the target in saying it "just right" -- or maybe I DID and it's still making you mad.

So yes, it pains me to have people read something I wrote with great effort and JOY, something I intended to for a specific and happy purpose only to find out that some people have completely missed the boat about what I was saying because they picked ONE piece out of the writing and reacted to it. And then some of them twisted it, or have tried to guilt me over it, and in the end have now spun it so far out of reality with what it was intended that I am left shaking my head and wondering "what the hell just happened here? I thought I was writing about LOVE and the ability we all have to create powerful and positive things. And now people are calling me names and saying rude things? What's up with that?"

That is apparently what has happened as a result of me writing in my last post:

"There are no victims in life, there are only people who THINK they are victims and therefore that's what they're experiencing -- victimhood."

Now, in case you missed that post (or even if you read it but didn't "get" it or agree with it), I was talking about my belief in the Law of Attraction and a process I have been introduced to via the work of an amazing group of people, called "The Secret" -- and how excited I was to discover that this law and process would, could and IS working powerful "magic" in my life. This is a belief and process which has been practiced, shared and expressed, in one form or another, by many of the world's greatest scientists, highly successful people, philosophers AND spiritual teachers for many hundreds of years and even dates back to the Bible:

"All that we are is a result of what we have thought." -- Buddha

"You create your own universe as you go along." -- Winston Churchill

"Success comes from within, not without." -- Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Whether you think you can or think you can't, either way you are right." -- Henry Ford

"Whatsoever we shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive." -- Matthew 21:22

So, with my purpose for the post being to SHARE something wonderful, you can imagine that it was a bit disconcerting to me to discover that a few individuals chose to focus very aggressively on the part about being a victim. I wasn't really all that surprised by their reactions as I anticipated it would hit a nerve with some, because it inevitably does. And by the way, I'm far from being the first or only person to make such a statement: "There are no victims".

The reason this idea of "no victims" does not hit the same raw nerve with ME is that I draw a very important distinction between "victim -- the NOUN" and "being victimized -- the VERB". I didn't bother drawing that distinction in my last post because at the time I didn't think it was necessary and the post was already about a million words long as it was, and it wasn't supposed to BE a post about victims anyway.

But it seems I do now need to take the time to talk about this distinction after all, not because I am retracting or changing or even apologizing for my last post but because I'm growing tired of being misinterpreted and would very much like to put my own energy and focus back to the POSITIVE aspects of the post and the Attraction Principle. So let me try, at least, to make myself more clear -- not that I expect you dissenters to suddenly up and agree with me. You're free to continue to have another opinion, and that's hunky dory with me.

Long post to follow so click just below to continue reading (drum roll, please...)

A Very Bold Secret

Psst... I've got a secret. A rather bold one.

This is not a drill. And this is not an April Fool's joke.

Although after reading what is about to become probably the longest blog post I've ever written, you certainly might THINK me foolish. But that's OK, I can take it. This is about something that has happened that has absolutely changed the way I look at my life and deal with my life, and a story about something extraordinary that happened just hours ago that I decided I had to put "out here" to share.

For some months now, you might have noticed a little logo on my right sidebar that says "What is The Secret?" You might already have heard about The Secret from some other source: a friend, seeing the DVD or book in a store, or even on Oprah, Larry King or Ellen DeGeneres who have all recently done programs on it.

Although I haven't blogged directly about The Secret, what it is or why I chose to put a link to it from my blog, in actual fact I write about The Secret all the time in many forms. Whenever I blog about my belief that you get what you focus on, or I talk about gratitude, I'm talking about The Secret. The Secret is how I have been consciously attempting to live my life for at least the past decade. But it is just TODAY, in the wee hours of about 2:45am, that I finally got a real breakthrough moment in using The Secret, and that's why I decided to come out of The Secret "closet" and be more overt about what it is and why it works -- and why you might just want to sit up and pay attention in case it's something YOU want to explore futher for yourself.

Because The Secret is how I got to live in Paris. The Secret is helping me improve my financial situation. And The Secret is how I am attracting love into my life, even now.

In case you were wondering: This is not a sales pitch. I am selling nothing. I do not profit in any way, not one centime's worth, from talking about this or about any of the products or individuals associated with The Secret. I'm not affiliated with The Secret movie or book (although I sure wish I was, because what a totally cool thing THAT would be), nor with any of the individuals who participated in it. This is also not about anyone's religious traditions or about saying those traditions or beliefs are true or not true. It's not about religion at all. It's about science and metaphysics and my desire to share a very powerful experience that is going on in my life right now, to share that with others with the hope they will benefit from it as well. Because when you've got something good, you want to share it and spread it around so others can have it too!

The Secret, if you haven't heard, is simply another term for the universal Law of Attraction.