When You're Lost In Those Woods, It

I Think The Thing That I Lost In Myself When I Stopped Writing Fiction And The Thing That I Rediscovered And Started Mining Again Is, For Lack Of A Better Word, Magic. It's The Way You Can Brush Up Against The Inexplicable And The Mystical.

I Think Of Modern Marriage As A Car Strangely Fashioned Out Of An Old Abandoned Horse Carriage, Built Upon The Framework Of A Mule Cart. All The Original Engineering Is Still There, Underneath It All.

He Was Still My Romantic Hero And I Was Still His Living Dream

I Am Alone, I Am All Alone, I Am Completely Alone. Grasping This Reality, I Let Go Of My Bag, Drop To My Knees And Press My Forehead Against The Floor. There, I Offer Up To The Universe A Fervent Prayer Of Thanks. First In English. Then In Italian. And Then - Just To Get The Point Across - In Sanskrit.

There's Always Another Level Up. There's Always Another Ascension. More Grace, More Light, More Generosity, More Compassion, More To Shed, More To Grow.