Helicopter skyward
allows a return to breath
beyond hope
a beginning contingent
on path.

The wind is whipping outside, going wherever it wants. The door to my rooftop is slamming. I tied it down so much last time the bolt nearly came off the door (yes, our door needs great attention), so I've just let it fly this time but will buy more rope and put another call into the landlord. Soon the wind will ease down and the door will stop banging.

Going with the flow, I'm going to go with it. Action, too, that is part of it, by swimming downstream where my riches and talents are down there, and that's where I'm headed. That's where I am.

Now as soon as I say this you know my stomach clenches and every bit of my mind rebels. There is the key. How to quiet the mind. But rather than roping it like the wind, I let it calm down, as everything does, must. And if I fall deeply into my creativity and ideas, do the dishes in between, dust, clean the bathroom, and keep jotting the ideas down, the paralysis of fear lessens in my head, and the wind stops, eventually.

This time I'm staying with the core of me. I have abandoned me plenty out of fear and desperation. Here I am again.Watch me ride the wind.

Back in the seventh grade, I got caught jotting down Bob's lyrics while a new and eager teacher chatted on about her trip to Greece and I listened and drifted into my daydreaming, which I know now is my method into creativity. She walked over and picked up my paper, read it to herself, smiled, and set it back down. Words change emotions. Write on.

You know I've been guilty of watching reality shows for as long as they've been churning out, but this recent one about beautiful people (true beauty, the premise is, is within), well, what kind of beauty do the producers have when they trick contestants? I don't care how vain these kids are (I'm getting older, that's right, they're kids to me), humiliating anyone is not very pretty either, inside, outside, all around the town.

God, give us some written shows again! Please!

I auditioned for an editor/writer position with E. Jean's advice site. I met a hoarde of fantastic writers, vying for the same position. That was in late October, some are still there, but I bailed out in early December. I left when I found out that position would be announced on her new advice show being taped, I guess now, or who knows?

I felt the slight sting of manipulation. Sure, these reality show folks must sign release after release, I'm sure, and sure they're reaching for stardom on a shaky platform, but the bottom line is they are people just like the rest of us. They have feelings, too, and after watching just one episode on this reality show on beauty I realized that it's not something I shall watch anymore.

That's because I'm a beautiful person. Or at least trying to be.