Arms Open Wide

Life has a balance and when at times the darkness prepares to overwhelm, light bursts through the clouds and brings tremendous joy and healing. It seems for me, the depths to which my challenges take me are negated by the heights my positive experiences launch me.

Last week I spent six days in New York City realizing the efforts of almost an entire year. Last winter I visited the Associate Dean at Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism and discussed opportunities for partnership. Resulting from that conversation was a 5-day journalism training conference on adolescent boys and whether there is a crisis or not, held last week. Media attention seems to think it so, but what do the experts have to say? I brought Mrs. Carter to the conference along with several experts in my circle. (Pictured left: Monkey Bar restaurant where we had dinner)

There are very few people that become more and more admirable as you get to know them, but admittedly, Mrs. Carter is one of them. I continue to sit in awe of her passion and “realness” with which she lives her life, something for which I have a front seat view. (Pictured left: Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism)

[A woman is real if in the back of the motorcade she announces to me that she just realized she has on two different earrings, one a hoop and one a medallion. We laughed and I offered up mine for her to wear. She thought a moment and simply said “Oh well, it isn’t a big deal,” as we head off to the cameras of Jonathan Demme (famed for Philadelphia and Silence of the Lambs) who happens to be filming Mrs. Carter that day to capture the Columbia conference. I have a lot to learn. She knows what is important!]

For those of you that are in my close circle, I guess that means all of you if you are reading this, I have to admit that most of the time while in NYC I had to pinch myself to believe such things were really happening! I am the little girl from Hudson, MI, a farming community, and somehow I have found myself in a circle that seems hardly real for I have done nothing in this life to deserve the opportunities that continue to be thrust my way. For a little girl from Hudson, MI doesn’t have a private dinner at one of NYC top restaurants with a former First Lady, nor does she eat meals in the World Room at Columbia University where the Pulitzer Prizes are announced, nor does she have Mrs. Carter and secret service calling her on her private cell phone, nor does she rub shoulders with some of the top mental health experts and journalists in the world. How did this happen? Many of these people not only call me colleague but friend, and I am awed that they do so.

As I sat in the conference next to Mrs. Carter and stared out the window to the Romanesque pillars on the imposing Columbia buildings, I found myself believing that anything is possible in this world. Anything. It is only our minds that get in the way and draw parameters to keep things “safe.” What if we chose to remove the parameters and live life as if anything could be possible? I had a beautiful picture of that sitting next to me in the form of Mrs. Carter. She was just a little girl from Plains, GA (even smaller than Hudson, MI) in a segregated south surrounded by cotton farms. I bet at 6, and even 36, she never dreamed she would be sitting where she is today but somehow she found the space to believe…to believe it is all possible. (Pictured right: my view from the journalism school looking on campus)

She didn’t draw parameters, and I have chosen that neither will I. Life is too short – and too much is possible.

As I write this, pending trips await to Romania in the spring and South Africa in the summer and Columbia Univ. and the New York Times Company Foundation are already talking about partnering on another larger scale conference next year. My program has officially outgrown me, and with that comes the choice – do I draw parameters and try to hold it all in with the hope to control it, or do I open my arms wide to what opportunities await and let it grow? To let it grow bigger and better than me, that is my choice. For the neediest and most wanting in this world could be reached by this initiative, as I just had a Fellow return from the Democratic Republic of the Congo and one left today for Ethiopia. The potential is wide and vast and I cannot squelch that, even if it challenges my need to control. Too much is at stake. I will choose to stare my need for control in the face and let it all grow – grow beautiful and bigger than me.

Blow Your Hair Back...

I just returned from the most AMAZING six days in New York and there is so much to share! It will take me some time to process all the experiences of those days...until then, a colleague just passed along this piece from Erma Bombeck and it has me running to the blog to share it with you. You will get more "blow your hair back" play-by-plays for my NYC experience shortly. RGP

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER - by Erma Bombeck (written after she found out she was dying from cancer).
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded. I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed. I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more "I love you's" More "I'm sorry's." But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it... live it and never give it back. STOP SWEATING THE SMALL STUFF!!!
Don't worry about who doesn't like you, who has more, or who's doing what. Instead, let's cherish the relationships we have with those who do love us. Let's think about what God HAS blessed us with, and what we are doing each day to promote ourselves mentally, physically, emotionally.

Bon Jovi, Third Day and Red Boots...

“Oh, we’re half way there, oh, livin’ on a prayer.
Take my hand and we’ll make it I swear,
Oh, livin’ on a prayer.”
--Bon Jovi, 1984

“It’s my life, it’s now or never,
I don’t want to live forever,
I just want to live while I’m alive.”
--Bon Jovi, 1990

Music has always brought me great solace, from the hair bands of the 80’s Def Leppard and Bon Jovi (OK, those of you that know my college Def Leppard story, keep it to yourself please…) as some of the favorites, to David Crowder and Third Day in the more recent times with songs that we rock to on Sundays.

I was able to bookend my weekend with two concerts, one on Friday night in the tight quarters of East Andrews Upstairs where a friend's husband was playing drums in a Bon Jovi cover band, and then at a David Crowder/Third Day concert that sold out Gwinnett Civic Center Sunday night. Two totally opposite experiences that brought out very different sides of me. Both necessary as I prepared for testing at Emory Hospital today.

On Friday night as I joined the Buckhead crowd pushing the stage to the thumping of Bon Jovi’s pulse, the old feelings from my previous illness began to surface and reverberate inside me. I feel different from the crowd; although I’m sure it doesn’t appear that way to those around me. I’m wearing the blue jeans and boots with a fur lined coat and singing all the words to every song, my hair hot-rolled and teased, with giant gold earrings for the throw back to the 80’s occasion. But in my heart, I cannot push reality away, and the stark nature of life bites at the edges of my conscious as I sing. I am different and I feel different. I can’t seem to shut out what life can do on a moment’s notice, unexpectedly – like what some other Buckhead somethings are able to do so easily. To forget. How I wish I could – just for a moment - but that isn’t to be in my life.

I laugh at my overactive brain at times – the brain that cannot ignore reality. Oh, if you all only knew the games I played in my head trying to figure out how to get through the testing at Emory today. For the first time ever, I finally had to succumb to using sedatives to get through a test. I had to make peace with the fact that I am not even close to being superwoman nor do I have to be “strong” all the time. I just simply have to get through. (Lynne, you should be proud, I even embraced cognitive-behavioral techniques, a la Dr. Matheny, and you thought I would never say that! Kathryn, you can just skip over that last statement—I haven’t lost my way, I still worship Jung.)

There is an incredible peace that comes when you just let go. I was really moved in my car yesterday when the song David Crowder was belting out through my speakers said “One thing I have learned is that letting go gives me a better grip.”

“Letting go gives me a better grip…”

And letting go of complete and total control was something I had to do today as radiology at Winship Cancer Center locked my head and neck down into a cage attached to a board and pushed me into a tunnel/tube for 45 minutes with 1 ½” to spare from my face to the roof of the tube found glaring at me, instructing me not to swallow during the whole test except for brief periods when the banging and pounding of the machine subsided briefly or when they took a break to start the IV injecting dye into my veins.

“Letting go gives me a better grip…”

And in the letting go you realize the most important things in life: Susan’s hand rubbing my legs extending from the tube; Susan’s hand clasping my scared clammy hand and knowing…knowing Susan wasn’t going away no matter how bad it was in the tube; Susan taking charge and pressing the alert bell when the IV sack fell from my body and dangled in full weight from the needle stabbed in my arm – me, unable to move, yell or even swallow; and Susan was there. And that is the most important thing in life –

(On a side note, ever the girl, I still wore my red boots with my hospital gown. What a sight that must have been, high-heeled red boots protruding from the MRI machine. I will keep my personality no matter the conditions…and oh boy, Emory and Winship haven’t seen anything yet.)

To love unconditionally and fully and allow oneself to be loved, those experiences are the only ones that matter in this world. The rest is fluff.

I have a gift. I now know that fully at the age of 34 years.

There are a lot of trade-offs: I may have scars (thank God for plastic surgery—I’m figuring this all allows for a natural face lift!!); I may gain and lose weight with the changing of the seasons depending on how accurate my medications decide to be (in fact that is already happening – oh joy! – all of these are not easy things for an image conscious girl).

Life has a sense of humor…but the way I figure it, I’m getting this stuff over early --- the best is yet to come. Look out.

There’s a light at the end of this tunnel
There’s a light at the end of this tunnel
For you, for you
There’s a light at the end of this tunnel
Shinin’ bright at the end of this tunnel
For you, for you
So keep holdin’ on --Third Day, 2006

Crystal Clear Focus...Rose-Colored Glasses Off

I was given a gift this week - one that I did not choose but one that will continue to change me. With the word of an unfortunate medical resident walking down an alley he thought had already been tred with me, I was told by him that the cancer of five years ago has returned. His shocked face realizing he was the first to tell me, thinking the specialists before him had spilled the news, I found myself doing the comforting "Buddy, it is your lucky day" - to his blushing face. With the blush of his face, any remnant of rose-colored glasses fell from my eyes and the world spun into crystal clear focus.

All the "suppose tos" and "must haves" don't mean anything anymore and why should they? All the rules are broken and the gloves are off. And I am feeling totally and completely free. In a lot of ways facing yourself and the finality of life during the young life-giving years provides the opportunity to release the chains facing the shadows on the wall in the proverbial Dante's cave and turn around to walk into the sunshine. I'm free.

A freedom that is bittersweet - as I watch several friends giving birth right now and a long lost archrival from graduate school reappears in my life, model thin, bejeweled, with the most gorgeous baby on her hip. I swallow hard and realize I don't need to run the race, in fact there isn't a race at all -- I'm free. Free to be, say, do what makes my heart sing and drives my passions.

With my clean bill of health that is sure to come in a matter of months, I am ready to embrace life with a passion, love deeply and long, and make a difference where I can.

I have decided that those things are best done behind the wheel of a convertible roadster, and I sat in the first demo last night, revvvvvved the engine hard and dreamed. The Saturn Sky in racing red (I know - American made - but just look at it!) is just what the doctor ordered. With a clean bill of health, I have decided to trade in the 9-3 for the Sky.

So, in May of next year, if a red blurr passes you on the highway with the driver's scarf flapping and Jackie O sunglasses shading the sun -- just know that is me and I am alive -- truly, fully alive.

Running on the treadmill...going somewhere?

The odd familiarity of the rolling whrrr of the treadmill and the ensuing sweat from me and those pushing themselves to extremes around me played tricks with my mind as I felt the adrenalin rush from my performing body. Everything felt the same and as if I have been doing it forever. The rhythm pounded out by my legs joined in the memory. As I entered the locker room of my new gym this week, I expected to catch in the mirror an image of a thin, fresh faced 19 y/o with dark hair and instead found an aging 34 y/o with newly dyed dark hair, crows feet, and a curvy figure (not all in the right places). Where did the time go? It seemed only a matter of months since I worked out the way I have been doing recently, but found, as I reflected, that I had to go back to my college years when I lifted weights 4-5 times a week and ran avidly through the hills of Kentucky- a place the cross-country team called "death valley".

Time is like a treadmill on warped speed - where did it go? The point was driven home again when I took my dogs to Kentucky over the weekend and found myself driving through my old undergraduate college town. Passing my residence hall Glide-Crawford (right building in the photo), it startled me to realize that it has been 12 years since I even stepped foot in the place, and it was home to me for four years. How is that possible? I'm not old enough to tick off figures like that -- and they are in years NOT months.

I remember the innocence and ambition felt by the young 21 y/o leaving college and heading to graduate school with hopes to change the world. Little did I know that the world does the more changing of me than I do the changing of it. Cancer, broken-hearts, stymied careers, and financial woes did much to put the gray in my hair, extra pounds in the curves as life walked across my face leaving marks around my eyes.

It is my hope that the years have found me wiser along with being older. As I listen to the whrrr of the treadmill through Gnarls Barkley singing "Crazy", I realize that much has changed for me. I find I am more likely to -- throw caution to the wind, love passionately, breath deeply, embrace opportunities, do something every day that scares me, not worry about what people think of me (even the cute guy benching to my right), and throw my head back and feel the air go throw my hair. Would I trade any of that for the thin, naturally dark-headed, fresh faced 21 y/o I had in my mind before I looked in the mirror. Not a chance...

Zuki and other amazing things in life...

Recently, I have been challenged to walk away from the narrow lens that views and dwells on all the negative events happening in life. Always in overabundance, negativity seems to be compounding with each new day -- from the ComAir flight crash at my brother’s airport, to the conflict in Lebanon, to the utter despicable sickness found in John Mark Karr. Media, in my view, being largely responsible for the obsessional culture, create an environment in which it is difficult to escape the stark realities of the pain. I for one am eager to (a necessary retreat from my own obsessional mind). Most likely, some of this is fueled by another recent major personal health scare that has required me to finally make significant changes in my life – more positive thinking being one of them! We all can produce an exceedingly long list of challenges, chaos and pain in our personal lives -- the greater challenge is to think about what is "working" and the good stuff that is happening.

In honor of this transition, I have created Rebecca’s top 10 list of amazing stuff from August 2006. I encourage everyone to do this!

10. Breakfast on the beach watching the sun go up with a producer in LA. I was in LA for the Voice Awards in which I was a judge.
9. Practicing bikram yoga and sweating out all the toxins in 106 degrees. After 1 hour and 45 minutes, your body can bend far beyond your stopping point at normal temperatures.
8. The Secret – http://www.thesecret.tv/ Recommended by our financial coach, the concept has changed my life in just the two weeks since I watched the documentary online. Never before have I taken 7 pages of notes while watching a movie. A little mystical for some, but chew the meat and spit out the bones.
7. Reading and practicing Dr. Andrew Weil’s “Eight Weeks to Optimum Health” – Not much to say beyond this. He has moved me to explore wellness in every area of my life: diet, exercise, environment, relationships, and spirituality.
6. Delaying a full-ride scholarship to grad school at Emory in honor of taking care of my body and reducing stress this year. A “first” in my life – and a true personal win.
5. A major promotion at work.
4. The designer Zuki’s furs at Saks Fifth Avenue – The Onyx Sheared Beaver “Romancing the Stones” is just what the doctor ordered, and I could hardly take it off after trying it on! A cool $17,000 – a girl can dream, right?
3. Watching a bunch of 20-40 somethings pack the 900 seat auditorium, and floor, and stage steps at church on Sunday (and growing past four services) in their jeans with starbucks because everyone is trying to hear the new rare message that God, spirituality, and meaning aren’t connected to “religion”, “traditional church”, or “denominations”. I love this gathering place and being a part of it! Not to mention the band for the first 30 minutes kicks it every time!
2. Sitting with my longtime friend Lynne who gave birth to little Joshua at 34 weeks – and they both made it through fine!
1. I am alive and well.

Now if I were to create a top 10 wish list, the Zuki fur “Romancing the Stones” would be at the top -- and you all thought I was just a humanitarian!!

Listening

Than smoke and mist who better could appraise
The kindred spirit of an inner haze? -- Robert Frost (1874-1963) "A Cabin in the Clearing"

While doing yoga stretches last night, I became entranced by the slow, fingering smoke slipping gently from the tip of the lavender incense I was burning. Something about it stopped my world and made me contemplate the careful ease with which it penetrated the air. The ease of its purpose, ever so slowly.

I wonder at times how life would be different if I allowed myself to slow down to a gentle, slipping motion in life. Is it possible that my impact could be greater than the pace with which I do things? The fragrance permeated the room completely, drenching my nostrils and lungs with its smell and taste.

Wouldn't we, couldn't we have the same effect if we embraced our purpose and completed it with the ease and certainty found by other objects/creatures in nature?

I am reminded of a quote I have kept on my bathroom mirror since my illness (now almost five years ago - identified week of 9/11/01). I studied the quote for some time and it took me back to the smoke of the night before.

If a butterfly flutters its wings on one side of the world, it can eventually cause a hurricane on the other side. --Edward Lorenz, Chaos Theory

"The flapping of a single butterfly's wing today produces a tiny change in the state of the atmosphere. Over a period of time, what the atmosphere actually does diverges from what it would have done." (Ian Stewart, Does God Play Dice? The Mathematics of Chaos, pg. 141)

If we listen to the inner haze, we know that there is more power in peace and the slow gentle movements of life than in violence and aggression so easily achieved by grabbing an arm or launching a missile.

Beyond Symptoms

Meeting with gifted writers/producers of major television shows doesn't come around that often, so I grabbed the opportunity to attend a convening around Bipolar Disorder and media depictions in DC yesterday. At the meeting was the writer for the series "House," one of the writers for "ER," and the Producer/Writer of the movie Jon Q. It was interesting to watch the discussion develop from a mechanical conversation about episodes and symptoms to a transformative experience that moved to understanding how a disease manifests itself into the humanity of an individual and impacts relationships, dreams, and worms itself into the core "identity". Some emotion was expressed by many members in the meeting as a "concept" moved to "reality."

I wish I could crawl in their minds and understand the mechanisms that are able to dream up fully living, breathing characters with passions. A gift that cannot be manufactured.

While in DC I was able to see two dear friends. Meeting with them helped me to remember that work is great but "true" living is spending time with friends and family and embracing the connection that can happen over a coffee or meal. Kind of a reminder from my meeting with the writers/producers, people aren't a pile of symptoms and processes that need to be cleansed. We are human beings, and our humanity can be messy and dirty at times but that is all a part of being relational beings and the beauty of truly living.

Now, if I can just learn to write characters like they do! :)

Painting titled "Transition" (48x36) by my friend Jerome Lawrence who has a serious mental illness. For more of his amazing art (Mrs. Carter bought one of his pieces for our offices, and I've had him speak at events on occasion) - visit www.jeromelawrence.net.

The Return...

After meeting with a group of 25 consumers of mental health services in an outpatient clinic based in a state-run facility - one of the first of its kind - I was awed at the power of the grassroots consumer movement now underway in Romania. Joel and I spoke to the group for almost an hour via translation and gained considerable feedback from their perspectives and advice. Although some were experiencing active psychosis and acting out behavior, the skills of the psychiatrist (a man my age and a reformer) reminded me of the practically unnecessary use of restraints and force. Through the use of his voice, controlled eye contact, and hand gestures, he was able to control outbursts. I'm thankful there is a strong soul modeling these progressive methods for Romania. It is practically unheard of at this point...

My rainsoaked, lost luggage returned to me two days after my arrival in the US. A delayed plane in Bucharest required me to run through CDG airport in Paris - now construction zone with make-shift hangers acting as terminals - and maneuver through multiple security clearances after an array of bus transports. They held the packed plane for me - thankfully, somewhat delayed by engine maintenance. Whew!

No rest for the weary - for now is when my sleeves really roll up and I begin the work of implementing the plans developed for the Romania training/Fellowship.

I was met at the office with decisions about awarding the 2006-2007 Fellows announced yesterday and planning for a very important meeting held yesterday as well. Delegates from California Prop. 63 convened with us at the Carter Center to discuss anti-stigma efforts in their coordination of spending the $1.1 billion in tax money received for mental health. Prop. 63 taxed 1 % of income on anyone earning over $1 million in CA, with all monies collected going to mental health services and prevention. There is something very satisfying about knowing Tom Cruise has to contribute to mental health! They are very interested in anti-stigma efforts and were keen on discussion the Fellowship program and our work. I provided a presentation and discussion -- with a lot of care -- knowing the responsibility that goes with such measures.

Next week I head to DC to meet with the writers/producers of "ER" and "House" to discuss best practices for portraying bipolar disorder on their shows. Just in the short time I have been doing this work I am feeling a significant change of tide, and with the growing groundswell of support, it is possible to turn the tide both here and abroad. I am humbled to play a small role in this effort.

Wanderings

Some photos from my wanderings. Above - an Orthodox church and the attached monastery in the Old City of Bucharest. Here (just above) the banking district and (last photo) the square Soviet era apartment buildings EVERYWHERE the eye can see. The regime forced people to migrate to the city and the buildings were constructed for efficiency and to hide any architectural creativity and relics from the past (churches most specifically).

"Life Changes Fast"

This morning I'm sipping on the most amazing thick, black coffee in the world -
I just finished the book "A Year of Magical Thinking" by Joan Didion, the wife of the late great writer John Gregory Dunn. A work similar to C.S. Lewis' "A Grief Observed," The New York Times named it the number one book of 2005. A journey into the year following the loss of her lover of 40 years after his massive/fatal heart attack. Joan explores the uncontrollable nature of life.

"Life changes fast.
Life changes in the instant.
You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends."

A beautiful depiction of soulmates who spent their 40 years sharing the most beautiful, simple moments of life -- observing the winter gray turning into the crisp freshness of spring during a morning walk; critiquing the writing of the other; living out the daily activities of life together. The simplicity and complexity of their relationship has me intrigued, and I find myself realizing that the organic activities of life are pregnant with beauty and fullness -- far over anything manipulated or manufactured.

These thoughts are even more true as I live my days out in Romania -- the coolness of the dim, vast stone and marble foyers of the old buildings when entering from the hot, dirty street; sharing a special dinner and surprise mint ice cream with my colleagues and Romanian friends in an early celebration of my birthday next week (BM, the chef of our hotel is Lebanese and he made FB for the FB. :) ; having 3 y/o Anna hug me and sing "Happy Birthday." This is life -- and I have to agree with Joan Didion -- it changes in an instant, but so can we with our arms open wide.

Enough of the mushy stuff (but 'tis Rebecca or the Dupster, what do you expect?) --
A day full of meetings with the Romanian League for Mental Health, the Center for Legal Resources, and a final meeting with the Center for Independent Journalism solidified our position that we accomplished exactly what we set out to do on this trip and more. The partnership is sealed and details are falling into place. More than likely, I will need to return in 3-4 months to see the start of our training program now under development. I am confident we are leaving it in expert, able hands to shape it into a model fit for their use!

This morning I am going to visit a new community-based treatment center, one of the only in Romania, and meet with some consumers (people who have sought treatment services). This will take me about an hour outside of the city, but it will be crucial in completing my understanding of the slow progress the country is making toward more person-centered care.

Then...I am going shopping with Ioana AVADANI, our administrator of the Fellowship. My first real taste of relaxation in a week! I'm looking forward.

Now, this girl needs to figure out how to leave this country -- I have fallen deeply in love over such a short time (not hard for me to do) . The love is for the friends and people I have met and for their fight to be free. Their fight resonates with me -- and I join them in it!

48 Hours Until Launch

We leave on Friday afternoon for Romania, and my head is swimming with my "to do" list that must be done before leaving. When Thom told me that Cynthia his wife was taking care of a lot of his preps, I told him that I need a "wife," -- and I am feeling it the most tonight as I carry bags from Target, hit the dry cleaners and come home to a house that needs cleaning. We both joined in the laugh.

The agenda is "finalized" and I'm pinching myself at our success in getting to the decision-makers. We will be meeting with the US Ambassador, the Minister of Health and his advisors, the EU Advisors on Health, and a host of other characters. Living up to the political game, the Secretary of State took one for the team this morning and was ousted in order to prove to the EU the President's seriousness over the health system crisis. So, we have an extra slot where he stood in our agenda and given the volatility of the current climate I've been warned that he may not be the last. In my personal financial mentoring sessions we have been working on my ability to tolerate rapid change, uncontrollable situations, and spontaneity (after all, the market doesn't always play by the rules :). I have a perfect playing field on which to try out my newly developing skills.

As I pack to leave, I am realizing that this is my first international trip without a family member. My brother and sister have gone way before me in this area. In fact Roger is getting ready to leave for three weeks of vacation in Nicaragua, Panama, Belize, Costa Rica, and Honduras. He's become a travel aficionado -- I have a lot of catching up to do! No wonder my knees are knocking.

I will try to post often while in Romania and look forward to the moments at the keyboard when I can reflect on the day's happenings. As for now, I have a house to clean and oh! - I'm speaking in Toastmasters tomorrow and haven't written or practiced word one!