Archive for March, 2013

How To Get Unstuck

Ask for help. We like to believe that we are invincible. We are not. We like to believe we are doing the right thing, then an unconscious part of us slides front and center and slays the scene before we wake up.

LMG 01-31
I am so grateful I’ve had the time to finish my book. All year while writing it, I found reasons I could live longer than expected, new avenues of interest that reunited me with my core which I’d been denying for decades.

It’s easy to get into a rut, to accept the inevitable, to give in and forget our own priorities when someone else’s story is so much louder than ours. And the years rush by. I’m amazed how fast each Wednesday at 6PM comes around. It literally feels like two days later but each time I slip my dance paws on my feet when the music starts I know I’ve lived another 168 hours. I really try to release my tension in that class. Dance it out, scream it out, release all pain. I have always loved to dance. My first NIA class began for me the first week of February. I loved it. Then the next three weeks during each class (each class has a purpose; joy, listening, release) I had moments when I was quietly sobbing. I’ve had much sadness, regret and fear to release so I can open up to new bliss and expression. Finally, the load is lifting.

I’ve been so afraid to share this book I’ve finally published. Everyone tells me time is of the essence. I must market it and make it stand out from all the other books non-writers are tossing out to make money with. This was no superficial journey. The pages are written with blood and guts, not ink. I tried to respect all those who contributed to my education and helped me do what I came here to do.


Yesterday, a package from Amazon was on my doorstep. It was too soon for the baby massage books I’d ordered. My own proof copy of the print book wasn’t supposed to arrive till the 11th. I couldn’t believe my delight when I opened the flap and there was the rich black velvet background Karen designed for that white enticing goddess sculpture I love.

It is hard to describe what it’s been like to carry the book around today. I slept with it last night. When my folks heard it had arrived they wanted to come over right away. My mom said, “I can’t wait to hold her.” After brainstorming with Karen on how to optimize the design now that we know exactly what kind of process CreateSpace’s digital publishing provides, I went to my folk’s house. First my mom read the sky story, the graduation poems, about Professor Riptide and then started on The Artist: Painter of the Dancing Circles. I realized that’s a perfect story to send to the New Yorker. I hope I follow through on my hunch and send it in soon.

So, the ebook is up but needs another version uploaded as the original one doesn’t have a title page or TOC (how did that happen?). I threw the ebook together in a day. It’s just an appetizer. It’s about a 7th of the size of the full course. A taster, not a tease per se. Is this voice trustworthy? Are the situations and relationships she finds herself involved in of interest? Are the characters she meets along the way worth getting to know more?

The print copy will be approved by the time most folks get out of church on Sunday. Not that those people would be my readers.

My folks have custody of the baby till noon tomorrow when they’ll bring her back to me. They are so dang excited she’s alive. As terrified as I was, I have to say this is exciting. To have dreamed it, then lived it, then pondered it, then written it up, edited it, proofed it, worried about it and then suddenly she squeezed out despite my resistance and she’s adorable! I’m tired of reading it, but when my mom read to us, and then when my dad continued I was amazed with their excitement. It’s horrible to find words missing, whether they be pronouns or verbs or adjectives. But at least I really haven’t come across a really embarrassing mistake. Fortunately RM discovered that I’d spelled Gloria Steinem’s name wrong a month ago.

I’ve been slacking in the promo department. I need to write a press release, but I have lists of feminist, indy and remaining bookstores, as well as a huge long list of women’s (issues or studies) programs in universities and colleges around the world. My therapist believes this book is more important and insightful than the required reading demanded of her when she was in school. She was forced to read Carlos Castaneda eating mushrooms. She is certain that what I explore, what I learn and share is much more helpful in people living authentic, healing, and ecstatic lives. From her mouth to God’s ears. lisa