Have you ever totally embarrassed yourself? Here's the question: What if one of the greatest enlightened masters walked up to me and posed a question - would I be too busy to answer? Would I think they are crazy? I am going to digress before going into details. Certain personality traits can either be viewed as flawed or favorable - depending. I am a woman of extremes - my astrological chart displays many opposing elements and my simian line is an indication of my conflicted nature. I have been this way forever - I'm either completely immersed in my emotions or I am clinical, rational and detached, but even while hovering in extremes, I observe - well aware of what is going on. Not able to change it, but present in the experience. In other words, even while I can be passionately in love, I wouldn't do something crazy like lie naked across someone's porch. I mean poetic things have been done in the name of love, but I keep mine restricted to my stories. And even when I am detached and living in my mind, I check in with my heart and feelings. I channel the HUGE emotions into my writing and draw the jewels from the fodder (if there are any).

Now, as my friends know, I was living in unrequited love for a while... I was either in "oh woe" that he will never love me, or enjoying the friendship and channeling the feelings into poetry and my other work. Recently, however, I realized that I could not do the gray area dance and I would need to take a break from the friendship I had with - we'll call him Frank But, I thought he would appreciate the few poems and a story I had written. In the story, I attempted to capture an essence of his vulnerability. A week later (yesterday) I attended an event and while Frank was civil - even friendly - to me if I approached him, essentially he tried to hide and I even think I heard him ask someone for refuge which about horrified me.

I realized that based on his past history with crazy, compulsive women, I had been tossed from being a close friend into that category of scary. And it caused me to wonder. I have known unconditional love for my children and parents and closest friends, but from Frank I learned so much about loving without expecting anything other than friendship in return. Loving him because of his beautiful soul and ignoring the behavior stuff. Listening without judging. I was grateful to Frank for the inspiration and occasional coffee companionship. We never slept together so it was simple and lovely and suddenly what was simple and lovely in my mind to him appeared creepy and out of control. Other than sending him a few effusive emails I had never done anything inappropriate. Anyway, I am no enlightened master, but it made me realize that we perceive our lives based on our reference or past history and if something beautiful and miraculous comes along, we may not see it or understand it at all because we can't recognize it. It doesn't fit anywhere so we don't know how to hold it. It only inspires me to continue on my spiritual path so that when one of truth and love's many sisters walks in my door - disguised or not - I will still recognize it, or at least be open to learning a new language to begin a communication with it.

After reading the Sunday NYTimes today - a day late - I realized what an insular life I lead as a writer - insular as in "characteristic of isolated people" as opposed to "narrow and provincial." (At least I hope.) That's why I have friends - to give me perspective, challenge my beliefs, deepen my understanding, and broaden my horizon. I suppose we all lead lives with more restricted interests based on what we are required to do most of the day. Maybe writers have more responsibility to keep a finger on the pulse, to explore territory they might not otherwise broach, to question and ponder, turn over rocks and prod a little.

Speaking of insular, I can't believe we are one of only three nations who elect our judges. "In the rest of the world, the usual selection methods emphasize technical skill and insulate judges from the popular will, tilting in the direction of independence." (page 13 NYT) The French model seems admirable and less prone to cronyism - their judges take a battery of tests and study years at a special school. Echoing the political scientists quoted in the article, I wonder how we have enough information to elect qualified and trustworthy judges. Of course, we wouldn't want our judges managed by Congress or the President either, so how do we maintain the separation of power? If not friends, it's good to have the newspaper pull me from my limited perspective... and anyway then my drama feels insignificant compared to earthquakes and typhoons!

When I was a little kid, I wished for two things: to fly and for magic. Lately I've been having the best flying dreams ever, so I think that might qualify, and synchronicity brings magic into my life big time. The most obvious example occurred about 3 years ago. I was cleaning out the garage and came across my high school yearbooks. Some cards fell out of the yearbooks and I read them. One was from an acquaintance - one of my boyfriend's friends. He wrote the loveliest things about my positive attributes, and I was touched years later by this boy I might otherwise never have remembered. THE NEXT DAY this boy, now man, emailed me: "Hi... I don't know if you'll remember me but...." He was married and had kids and was "just saying hi." What the? I wrote back and told him my story and never heard from him again. It must have seemed too weird. And it was. I hadn't talked to him let alone thought about him in 27 years. We are all so interconnected in ways unseen.

Synchronicity seems to occur in waves. There are periods where life is "as usual," and then phases where it all seems like a dream - the coincidences are so strange. Lately I've been going through one of those worm holes. I work on a chapter that includes a group of white American pelican and a red hot air balloon, and the next morning when I step out onto my deck - not so far in the distance is a red hot air balloon with the design: 3 white birds that could be seagulls - or perhaps - American white pelican. I am out feeding the goats in the morning when the balloons rise, so I have a good idea of their pattern. In the summer, they fly every weekend and occasionally on weekdays, but I have never seen only one balloon mid-week and there wasn't another balloon in the sky days before or days after that sighting. But this isn't so amazing in itself. It's always the string of events that seems to create the feeling that I am dreaming.

This week I decided to pull back from a male friend - we'll call him Frank. I realized that while I cherish our friendship I have fallen too far into love. I will continue to appreciate that lovin' feeling, but I need a bit of separation from him in case he ever announced he was serious about some woman. I think I would go into shock - as though someone had died. I thought I could maneuver the gray area, but unfortunately hearts are like little unruly beasts that have a mind of their own. And my heart has galloped away with me clinging to its neck. You know it's bad when I even think the man's bruised and bloodied big toe is endearing. But I drew the line when he did not introduce me to a close male friend who happened to come up and talk to him. It was like a slap that woke me up.

Ok Ok I have digressed. So, I step back, and the next day (yesterday) I attend a Rockies/Mets game with my daughters and three rows ahead of me sits Frank's identical twin - or it could have been. He was a younger version of Frank (still within my dating range) (And I'm no cougar ) and he has a Kurt Vonnegut novel tucked under his arm as though he might read during the 7th inning stretch. I am completely taken by the dude, studying him when his best friend looks back at me and starts flirting (thinking of course I am looking at him and not Frank's double). This happens to me about once every two years so I flirted back, but when they realized I was associated to the two teenagers next to me - either the prospect of teen girls terrified them or the idea that I had a 17 year old gave away my age - but at any rate the flirting stopped there. But what are the odds I manifest some twin?

The other coincidences are even more incredible, but too convoluted to write about - i.e. it would take too much time to write the back story, but suffice it to say, if enough of these things happen in a short amount of time I begin to wonder if the fairies aren't playing with my head... the universe has a major sense of humor and life is magical!

And, by the way, it is my beautiful and powerful mother's 70th birthday today. She is the one who taught me how to be aware of synchronistic events and to believe in a universe that supports us. Her name, ALMA, means "soul" in Spanish and she is soulful and big hearted - an angel for us all.