There’s No Time Like the Present
Change hovers like the morning sun-mist over Lake Carolyn.
I no longer fear change. One of my lessons along the journey I began nearly two years ago is that we cannot be consumed by that which has no power. Fear cannot exist in a powerless environment.
There’s No Time Like the Present
As I began my journey of then to now, “there’s no time like the present” was my what-are-you-waiting-for mantra. In the spring of 2009, while I hadn’t yet begun voicing the mantra, I think it was trying to burst through the groundcover of my mind. I found myself asking those questions of the universe like, “Is this all there is to life?” And then to myself, I posed the question, “Do you want to live the second half of your life as you have the first?”
The Holy Instant
With that question, I initiated a hidden series of events over which I had no consciousness. And I certainly had no control. After much anguish and jockeying for position to race against the inevitable changes (I am as mule-headed as the next person from the Show-me state.), I threw my arms in the air and yelled the shortest and most powerful prayer of surrender:
“Okay, God, Whatever!”
God was waiting to plow the ground in front of me. He tilled, planted, fertilized and watered. Oh, how I was thirsty! Little did I know that in two years time, the change I had invited would pick me up and drop me in Texas, that I would start this blog and contemplate its becoming a business, that I would be graced with a friendship blossoming into a soulmate-ship, and that I would walk through the valley of the shadow of my mother’s death.
Turning Corners
Now I’m about to step around another corner. In two days, I’ll attend a workshop that probably will create new shifts and opportunities. I’m eager and ready to turn the corner. In fact, I just may skip around the corner. After all, there is no time like the present.



In July of 2009, I had an epiphany. For about a month prior, I was emotionally distraught, increasingly depressed and having serious thoughts of drinking again (after 18 years of sobriety).
I struggled to wrap my arms around what could possibly be wrong with me. I had all the trappings of a good life, one others would love to emulate--great job, dream house, traveling for a living, a life mate . . . the list goes on. 





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