Blast O' Joy

Don't Wait To Be An Expert

There is a sad misconception floating around out there that I'd like to dissolve right this minute. It is the thought that you can't ever move forward with your dream until you are a true master at it.

Now let's take this argument one step further. I contend that not only do you learn by experience, you learn even more by teaching. Whether you're a writer, a coach, an entrepreneur, or a business person, the act of sharing what you've learned with others crystallizes the information for your own use. I learned this from Mr. Baynum, my seventh grade science teacher who was brand new to teaching. Mr. B. had a wonderful habit of saying "I don't know" when he didn't know something, only to return the next day with a full encyclopedic explanation of the very phenomenon you asked about. It became a game to see if we could ask Mr. B. a question he couldn't ultimately answer, which never once happened. Needless to say, some major learning took place.

Teaching mobilizes that zestier, more energetic part of your persona that loves digging for the answers, preparing ahead of time, and sharing your discoveries. In short, teaching keeps you on your toes, especially when it's a subject you don't know too much about yet. After all, what makes a great teacher? Not necessarily a master's expertise, but the desire and caring to communicate what you do know. This is the g-force that great teachers always have.

Chances are, you'll have even more access to it when you tackle a subject you care passionately about, even if you're NOT an expert at it yet. Then you get the pleasurable task of learning all about your chosen subject as you learn how to teach it.

This was the impetus that drove me to write my book, How Much Joy Can You Stand?. I was stuck with a major case of writer's block, and a certain sinking feeling about my fate as a writer, the only career I really cared about. Only by writing a book that encouraged other people to pursue their dream, was I able to move forward and have that career. This was because the endeavor forced me to learn why and how a creative person can actually keep going, something I desperately needed to know!

Let the desire to dig into this project guide you every step of the way, for it will...if you let it. Share the work, and its benefits will come back to you in spades. I promise!

How many of us linger forever in endless training and classes, waiting to get really good at something before we plunge a single toe into the submission/rejection pool? How many of us don't even start our dream, because we figure we'll never get "good enough" at it to make any difference at all? How many of us give up along the way because we'll never be the expert that so-and-so is?

Yet, here is the ironic little truth that blows all of these perceptions away. You cannot become a master until you actually take the leap, do the work, make several thousand mistakes, and live to tell about it. Experience is truly the only thing that makes experts so expert.

Spring Clean Your Dream

Here is a potentially gnarly question for you...

Where do you do the work of your dreams?

Is it in a well-lit, organized place with plenty of space for you to stretch out, find your tools, and get to work? Or is it nothing more than a few dusty piles in the corner of your living room? ? Is it a place of concentration and serenity? Or one of neglect and clutter?

Take a moment and think about this, for the answer holds a key to exactly what may be holding you back from creative fulfillment. I once took a seminar with a fellow who insisted that the interior of a person's car reflected the shape their life was in. And while I pooh-poohed the notion at the time, I've never forgotten it because there is a grain of truth there.

So what shape is your dream studio in? Do you even have one?

Mind you, I'm not suggesting that everyone must have 2000 square feet of space with hardwood floors and northern exposure to get on with their dreams. But they do need to have enough commitment to that dream that theyÕve created some kind of space for it in their life. Exactly how that space is treated is key.

For many years, my "dream studio" consisted of a small room with a sagging day bed for a filing cabinet, a wobbly arrangement of shelves and cinderblocks for a bookcase, and a hard, wooden school chair to sit on. And my dream progressed in frustrated little fits and starts as a result.

It never occurred to me to build shelves, buy a filing cabinet, or get an office chair because somewhere deep inside I was convinced my writing didn't deserve 'the luxury' of a properly set up office. That sort of thing was for official jobs, I thought -- the kind you get paid for. This, of course, is that same self-doubting nonsense that keeps many of us from ever attempting our dream in the first place.

In other words, your dream studio may be in your home office or a corner of your bedroom, and that's just fine. But make sure it reflects a true, serious commitment to your dream. Is it a place you can actually work in? Is it efficient and organized? Can you find files and materials easily? Is there a door if you need quiet in order to concentrate? Is it clean, and basically clutter free? Is it uplifting, with a generally spiritual, serene feel?

Are you treating your dream with love and care É or is it collecting dust and clutter? Do you believe in your work, and yourself, enough to provide exactly what is needed?

Take a look around your life and decide. And know that you do, indeed, deserve the best.

Open Your Heart

A few years ago, a psychic in Key West, FL told me something I'm only just now beginning to understand. As I sat there in front of her, in a darkened room all full of incense, she intoned:
"You'll have the success you want, Suzanne, but only when you open your heart."

I wasn't sure what this meant, exactly, but I did what any good self-help devotee would do. I set out to crack the code on what "opening your heart" meant.

My first stop was the aromatherapy store, where I spent a good hour sniffing this and that until I'd whipped up my own little brew designed to split open a congested heart chakra. (Mind you, I had no idea what I was doing, but this did seem like the place to start.) Then I headed over to my friend, Mary, the Oriental Medicine Woman. Mary listened to me quite seriously when I requested she set lots of needles that would open my heart. After the third treatment, she gingerly asked how it was going. "I don't know," I replied. "Well, what would "opening your heart" be like?" she asked. Again, I could not answer. Meanwhile, a nightly application of my heart chakra oil was giving me nothing but a greasy, rose-scented chest.

Ultimately, I forgot about opening my heart as the whirlwind of life sucked me on toward the next endeavor.

Then the other night I sat up in bed, suddenly aware of exactly what opening my heart really means. It means working hard on your passion, and investing time, money, and energy in getting it out there. It means doing whatever you have to do to follow your gut instincts and act on them. And it means having the courage to truly share yourself with others.

"Open your heart" is another way to say "Touch someone else, as truly and deeply as you can." And as you do, prepare to be touched in return. For this is the continuum your creative gifts will always provide. You long to express yourself, so you do. And what you receive in return is not only creative fulfillment, but the beauty of knowing you have had an impact on another soul.

So why does such a pure act of goodness require courage? Because ultimately we fear that very power that we crave, just as much as we shy away from the tenderness of our love for our fellow man. Such intimacy brings up all our most "uncool" feelings; it makes us realize the tremendous responsibility that comes with living a life of integrity. Suddenly it is no longer okay to live with mediocrity. Instead, you've tasted true depth and meaning, so you have no choice but to open your heart, again and again and again, as you make sharing your gifts a regular part of your life.

This is a perfect plan, one you can even enjoy once you relax into it. I invite you to dig a little deeper and open the piece of your heart that remains hidden. All you will receive in return is love, growth, and a sense that all is right with the world.

One Step On The Way

Recently, a reader sent me this question:

"What about when you actually reach a huge dream, and then realize that it was just one step on the way? When I finally got my dream, after a lot of work, I found myself weary on Step One of a huge staircase. I'd like to hear about the disappointment/joy/weariness/pride mixture, and everything that goes with reaching a dream and continuing after that."

This eloquent little note speaks about something so true and wonderful, specifically, the moment that your dream urges you to grow. I have said it again and again: our dreams are in our lives to teach us how to become bigger and more generous adults. They are here not just to fulfill us, but to give us a gift that we can freely share with others.

So yes, looking your dream dead in the face can be intimidating, especially once you've begun to achieve it. (It's the old "careful what you wish for" syndrome.) And yet, I attribute that overwhelm to some outmoded thinking. ("Can I keep up? What if THEY discover what a phony I am? What if I fall flat on my face?")

When doubt and overwhelm creep in, you have to stop and breathe. Then you have to get in touch with these basic truths about the whole dream-seeking process:

1. Remember that you're not alone. You are guided on this little mission of yours, and that guidance is never, ever going to leave you, no matter what! So even when the going gets impossible, help is actually at hand. You just have to remember to go within, ask for some direction, and do as told.

You will expand to meet the job. When my friend Marla, a mother of a two-year-old and ten-month-old found out she was unexpectedly pregnant with twin boys, she burst into tears. But then, in an inspiring moment of truth, Marla decided she had been given this challenge as a gift, and she was going to rise to the occasion and be an excellent mother. Marla ( who also runs a sales department of more than 200 employees in a high-pressure job in New York City) has never looked back and is, indeed, a dedicated Super-Mom.

In other words, no matter how intense the pressure becomes, you can handle it, or it wouldn't have been given to you in the first place. Learning to make that leap is, indeed, the lesson.

Accept that life is a roller coaster. There is a persistent belief out there that if you do pursue your dream, it will be one long, rose-tinted joyride. NOT! Dreams do not come with money-back guarantees for happiness and contentment. Not at all! They are fraught with all sort of stressors and inconsistencies. And that doesn't mean they are wrong or bad. It simply means you are living a little more on the edge than usual.

2. Don't collapse into your drama. Don't get all wrapped up in how tough and scary things are. Instead, consider that overwhelm is actually a sign of being fully alive. So when you're out there living on the edge, simply expect to be overwhelmed from time to time. And know that this is a true sign of being fully engaged with life. Overwhelm can be a tremendous catalyst to your creativity, as it was for Marla. The trick, then, is to turn that overwhelm around so it no longer plagues you, but feeds you.

3. Go within, pronto! To get past overwhelm, first calm down and go within through meditation, yoga or journaling for at least half an hour each day. (Yes, you have time for this, I guarantee you do.) I'm learning that a daily yoga or meditation practice is the one truly effective technique for enhancing your ability to receive clear guidance. Make this the priority when panic creeps in.

Dream & Act Big!

I think I was reading a children's book when I first spotted the phrase "Tiny Brains". The phrase referred to dinosaurs, whose gargantuan bodies dwarfed their rather small mental faculties. (A Tyranosauraus Rex evidently had a brain the size of a pea, or a golf ball, or a marble...or something very small.) If they were the "Tiny Brains", then I suspect we are the "Big Brains".

Think about it.

We spend a good part of every day worrying, analyzing, thinking, stewing, fretting, imagining, fantasizing, pining, and otherwise mentally gestating over our lives and our dreams. So basically, we spend our entire day thinking ourselves to death.

That was the image that came up on our "Dig Into Your Dreams" teleclass the other night: of a tiny little person teetering around beneath a huge, cumbersome brain.

This is both the joy and the curse of being human. And it's the irony, as well.

We labor through life, convinced our circumstances dictate every last shred of our lives. We don't have the money we want because of our boss, or our education, or our local economy; our neighbor keeps us up at night so we're always sleep-deprived, etceteras, etceteras. We don't have love because of our weight, or our car, or our kids, or because we don't have time to go out and meet anyone. And we don't have our dream because...well, just because.

And yet, to quote my new favorite writer Joe Vitale, author of Spiritual Marketing, "Everything in life seems to be plastic. You can mold it to fit what you want and where you want to be." So yes...life is plastic. Life is this wonderful pliable stuff which you can shape and form any old way you want. And yet, under the weight of our very large brains we forget that. We think we are given a life that is already formed like quick-dry concrete and by somebody else!

This is patently not true.

It never was and it never will be because we do have the power to change and mold our lives. We have the power to walk out of our job at 5PM, or tell our children or our spouse to leave us alone while we work on our dream for an hour every day. We have the power to create savings we can live on while we transition from one career to the next. We have the power to affect millions of people if we want to Ð and share our gifts as abundantly as we possibly can.

What we don't have the power to do is control and dictate outcomes. We can say we'll walk out of work at 5PM and we can't necessarily control the reactions of those around us. BUT we can control how we feel about those reactions. If we connect with the absolute necessity of taking that action, and the positive benefits it will bring as we begin to live our divine purpose (which we have to leave early to do then the dirty looks our co-workers or boss gives us begins to seem less significant. After a while, they just seem sort of sad.

And if we find ourselves out of a job because we've reshuffled our priorities, our new groundedness can take us far in creating more harmonious work. (Please note, I am someone who lost my job because I made my dream my priority which just fast-tracked me on to living my dream!)

We find that once our big brains are focussed not on worry, longing and fear, but on our purpose in life, then things get more grounded. They get easier, too. We become clearer. We feel our divine connection more intensely. Every day seems to count more.

Joint me in some of the work I've described below if you want to see how "plastic" and moldable your circumstances can really become. I'm thrilled that the Big G is helping me spread my work further and further to all who may benefit.

And by the way things look for this newsletter in two more weeks, instead of three. The Joy Letter is now on a bi-weekly schedule to accommodate an exciting new wave of inspiration.

Bon courage, and don't be afraid to dream and act big!

Love Being A Fool

From time to time in this ramshackle life we lead, we get called upon to be a fool. I do. You do. We all do. Not only because this is just the cost of being human, but also because we have to. Being a fool is one way we actually grow and expand.

My daughter, Teal, reminded me of this lesson just the other day. We found ourselves with nothing to do one morning recently, and Teal suggested we go cross-country skiing on the trails in the woods behind our town. Ordinarily that would be a sure-fire, excellent suggestion cross-country skiing is on my short list of great things to do in life. In fact, I hadn't even been cross-country skiing all winter, as it had been warm and brown in the Adirondacks with far less snowfall than usual; naturally, I'd assumed I couldn't. So sage mother that I am, I looked out the window at the exposed, soggy grass, and said "I don't think so, dear."

Fortunately, my daughter is one of those people who never, ever gives up. Gently, she kept pushing and pushing, until finally I got tired of arguing. "Okay!" I cried, "Just quit bugging me, will you? We'll go skiing. Maybe then you'll believe me when I say there's no snow!" And with all the grace of an aggravated rattlesnake, I stomped out the door, skis in hand.

We set off up our driveway, clotted with melting snow and muddy leaves, and immediately I began playing all of my longest, loudest self-pity tapes. Poor me, having to ski in the mud! Poor me, having an adolescent whom refuses to believe her mother! Poor me, who could be home chipping away at her massive to-do list! I was so ensconced in how wrong this all was, that I didn't even notice when we got to the trail through the woods.

"Look, Mom," said Teal. And there before us was a glistening stretch of unbroken white, with easily enough snow to ski on. "Do you want to go first, or shall I" she asked sweetly.

"Oh, you go right ahead, dear," I mumbled, feeling Stage One Foolishness kick in. And of course, that foolishness kept right on building to Stage Two Foolishness. Instead of enjoying the pleasant surprise of the moment, I began looking for problems the snow might clump on my skis, or be too heavy to move through! I could fall down and get soaked! And what will the fields be like up ahead? Probably totally bare!

Uncertainly, I began to ski, still sure that Teal's idea wasn't going to work. Meanwhile, Teal disappeared up ahead, and I found myself moving faster and faster through the woods to catch up with her. My skis were gliding, the snow was glistening, blue sky and sun were all around me, the air was soft and welcoming, and all at once, I struck me that this wasnÕt actually a bad ski at all. In fact, it was a good ski, even a great ski!

I caught up with Teal at the farm fields that lead to the rest of the trails. Again, ahead of us was a swath of white, broken only here and there by small patches of brown. "So," said Teal, "what do you think?"

"I think I'm going to listen to you a little more often," I said.

It's this simple: if you want to do something inherently ridiculous, by all means do it! Turn off the chatter of your busy brain, and all the assumptions of how much you know, and be willing to just go out there and try. What you'll probably discover is a delightful, surprising reality you hadn't even planned or counted on.

And that, my friends, is learning to love being a fool.

Managing Fear

In October 2001, as the US began military strikes against Afghanistan, I was standing in Central Park in Manhattan, watching toy sailboats glide around a small pond on a letter-perfect fall day. A stranger approached us with the news and I burst into tears. It was as if the other shoe dropped in that minute. Finality kicked in. We, too, were now part of the cycle of destruction. More lives were being lost, property destroyed. Our safe, wondrous, small world would never be the same again.

I have to admit my first impulse was to flee the city immediately.

My mind went straight to reprisals, grim possibilities that kept playing themselves out non-stop in my imagination. I just wanted to go home. But then my husband, a far calmer person, reminded me that I was caught up in the heat of my reaction. "Look at everyone who lives here," he reminded me. And I did. Around us, mothers were calmly pushing strollers; couples wandered by hand in hand. My friends Laurie and Roger were going home to do laundry and make burritos in their Greenwich Village apartment. Life was, indeed, going on, and it certainly wasn't going to stop because of a small thing like fear.

In the coming hours, we talked to friends who live in Manhattan, fellow riders on the bus, strangers on park benches, and all agreed. Even though life had suddenly gotten very shaky, you have to keep on rolling, whether you're in the middle of New York City or the middle of nowhere. Even here in the relative security of the Adirondacks, we are fewer than fifty miles from a nuclear power plant as well as a US base for the Strategic Air Command. As my brother who lives in Philadelphia put it, "Where are you going to go?"

So the question isn't really about going anywhere. It's about managing our fear.

I've come to see that fear, like serenity, fulfillment, and even joy, is a necessary condition in life. Without it, we would not know the quickness of our love, or the preciousness of our time here. Nor would we know the magnitude of our power. In that moment just before we stride out on stage to address a crowd, or pitch our business plan to a bank, or hand our precious creation over to agents, we feel the importance of what we've created. Its very power can make us shrink back, questioning whether we're up to the task. Or it can propel us forward, confident that we are right where we should be, moving ahead with life.

We have a choice in the coming weeks, months, and possibly even years. We can use this moment to get on with the work God's given us to do in this life. Or we can hold back in fear, daunted by terrorists both out in the world and deep in our head. We can no longer pretend that thing we long to do in life doesn't matter, any more than we can pretend that we are not afraid.

So be afraid, but also be honest -- this is the gift inherent in these tough times. For now more than ever, we're called upon to tell the truth about our lives, to be utterly and totally authentic. Fix what needs to be fixed, and reach for the that which calls to you. You're still here -- and now, more than ever, the world needs a piece of your joy.

Moonlighting 101

Lately, I've gotten interested in people who moonlight. The other day I met a film editor who is also Quebec's Regional Champion Snow Carver. By day he sits in an editing booth, working magic with tape and computers. By night, he tackles ten foot high blocks of hardened snow with carving knives and whittles them into incredible sculptures. I also learned that my accountant is a passionate hang glider, our minister does legal work on the side, and our electrician has designed an $8000 amp the electronics media calls the most sophisticated in the world. The electrician's assistant, meanwhile, is a two-time national in-line skating champ.

Then there's my friend who is about to go to New York to design buildings for several months so she can accumulate enough cash to get her shaped glass concern up and running. And since her goal is to create architectural components made of glass, she'll be making contacts that will enhance her creative business as well. And then there's my friend Alex, who moonlights as a graphic designer so she can support her songwriting career, and occasionally take off time to tour Europe's coffeehouses with her guitar.

The world is peopled with so many itinerant artists, inventors, and entrepreneurs it seems like moonlighters are taking over the economy. And with good reason. Few of us have the capital or the guts to make the leap towards our dream without a financial net in place. Which means a lot of us wind up "in transition", i.e. moonlighting, for significant periods of time.

I was an advertising copywriting for eighteen years -- ten of them freelance -- while I worked on building my writing career. And what I learned is that there's a right way, and a wrong way, to moonlight. A few fundamentals:

-- Never do a job you can't walk away from by 5:30PM. You won't sustain the energy to do your creative work at night. (You'd be surprised the jobs you can walk away from, especially if your perameters are set up up front.)

-- Look for jobs that feed your other interest, wherever possible. (My last 'bread gig' had me reading periodicals for much of the day, many of which have provided research for my books.)

-- Never work for a jerk (to paraphrase author Pat King.) It's not worth the paycheck at the end of the day. Abusive bosses or co-workers drain precious creative energy

-- If you find yourself literally running through the halls of your office trying to get things done, look for another job.

-- Don't get too entrenched in the office culture. Use your lunch hour not to hang with the gang, but to provide something you need to fulfill your other work, whether it's a workout for stamina, or a trip to the library for research. If you find yourself worrying at night about your office location or next pay increase, it's time to re-evaluate the job

-- Avoid jobs that require heavy manual labor. Waitressing or logging is great if you're in your twenties. For the rest of us, pick something a little less load-heavy

-- Begin your marketing campaign at the office, when you need to attract a market or an audience. Co-workers can be amazingly loyal (and understanding)

-- If you find yourself hating the company you work for, think of it as a benevolent patron of the arts. Quit expecting it to feel good, because it won't, necessarily. Instead, use your time effectively there and appreciate the steady paycheck

-- Manage your money wisely, maintain a budget and a savings/investment schedule. Never fritter money away if your goal is ultimately to leave the day gig

-- Avoid the casual beer or glass of wine at night during the week. Alcohol tends to erode resolve, especially if you create at night. Think of yourself as 'in training'

I could go on and on. Bottom line: moonlighting is a brave and glorious course of work that also has a way of making you more efficient in your day job, and enhancing your inner force.

Finally, to all who toil by night so their souls can breath, I thank you for your great generosity. Go forth and conquer!

The Inevitable Disappointment

Recently, a reader asked me to address a topic which is both unpopular and inevitable -- disappointment. You may be wondering what place a gloomy subject like disappointment even has in a newsletter with a name like "The Joy Letter". But let me tell you, it has a very important place. For without learning to deal with disappointment, you can never truly live your dream.

Let's look at this logically. You get a wild idea, perhaps in childhood or possibly even in your saner, later years. You think and ponder and eventually take baby steps towards producing this idea, all the while imagining a better day, far ahead, when you will actually be living this dream. That day always seems rosy, bright, seamless, until, of course, you've lived it.

Through hard work and perseverance, you eventually begin to live your dream and reality hits. No one prepared you for how hard you would have to work! No one told you you wouldn't spend Easter with your kids three years in a row! No one told you how many scary airplane rides you'd have to take, or how many bad reviews you'd have to weather in the press, or how many sleepless nights your financial risks would produce. No one prepared you for the first time you'd have to fire an employee.

And yet ... this is your dream. Welcome to it.

Personally, I love this about dreams. They wouldn't be truly interesting if were totally candy-coated and ecstatic all the time. Just like the rest of life, they have to have some bleak underpinning somewhere. Yet, within all this dark stuff, you find the true test of your character. You discover what you're made of, and where you're still hanging on to the illusions of childhood. You find out just how passionate you really are, and you learn about the shifty nature of being human. You'll discover your true creative resourcefulness, and sit back in wonder when miracles happen. You may even learn on a gut level about spirituality and it's place in your dream.

The popular view is that life should be fun all the time, and that since it never is, there's a design flaw somewhere. My view is that these 'design flaws' are actually just as guided as the dream, itself, and provide unique opportunities for growth and rebirth. Stephen Sondheim's musical "Into the Woods" has a wonderful verse that uses going into the woods as a metaphor for experiencing the dark side of any dream:

Into the woods you have to grope,

'Cause that's the way you learn to cope

Into the woods to find there's hope,

Of getting through the journey.

That's the long view to remember when pursuing any dream. Sooner or later, once you begin to live them, all dreams are destined to become plain old reality, complete with speed bumps. The key is to keep an eye on how your dream is serving others, and to remember that all those disappointments are merely tools for moving forward.

That is, indeed, how you get through the bigger journey called life.

Learning To Listen

I recently had the pleasure of reading a terrific book about fatherhood and baseball ... and life. In Henry Dunow's "The Way Home," he recounts learning how to be a good father -- specifically, having to overcome a family tendency to be distant and distracted with his son. He needed to stop the race of things that were always pulling at his attention (work, bills, projects, anything) and really sit down and be with his son. He needed to not resort to razzle-dazzle techniques to try and win his son's true affection, but instead, to just be patient and listen to the child.

"So I began to pay attention," he writes. "Max would speak, and I would make damn sure I was listening. Really listening. Sometimes I needed every ounce of my will and concentration to silence my preoccupations, so I could give myself over to him ... I worked at it, sometimes pulling myself back to the present moment with a start, like someone shaking off being asleep at the wheel."

Dunow's perseverance at doing what needed to be done was striking to me, because that is often what is missing when we set out to pursue our dreams. We want life to be easy, and our processes to feel good and 'natural'. We're willing to work hard, we say, but are we really willing to make core changes in our very behavior ... even when they feel uncomfortable?

For me, my discomfort zone has often been around the technical aspects of running a business. "I'm an artist!" I always declared. "I don't have to be good with numbers and keep accurate books." Or at least that's what I thought until I a financial coach who pointed out that I was trying to pretend I wasn't running a business. She got me to open a business account, keep books that were accurate, handle my income and expenses professionally, and basically grow up as far as being a business owner was concerned.

None of this felt 'good' or 'natural' from the start. It felt awkward and intimidating. I can remember the lump in my throat when I opened the enormous box from the back with my business checkbook in it. I still feel trepidation on the day I have to sit down and pay bills and write up the monthly expense and income report. Yet, over time the discomfort has faded; I've gotten used to the process of doing what I have to do every month. When financial questions need to be answered, I have fewer moments of putting the whole thing off until later (a favorite avoidance tactic) and more moments or realizing, with a small wave of amazed delight, that I actually do know what to do. I've gotten used to being this more grown-up, capable person, and pressing through my resistance, even though it didn't seem possible at first.

Henry Dunow saw amazing results from the small shift in attention he gave his son: "He began to seek me out more and more and was noticeably more affectionate, throwing his arms around my neck for the morning good-bye kiss, running down the hall to greet me as I got off the elevator coming home from work. It felt wonderful. It was only a beginning, but a hopeful one, and I wanted to do more."

We do have the ability to re-train ourselves to think and act differently about the things we want to change in our lives. Like dieters setting out to lose ten pounds, we have a choice. We can stall, and cheat, and flummox around. Or we can set our minds to the task and change our lives. We really do have that ability -- it's simply a matter of remembering again, and then again, and making the right choice each time we do.