Day 12 New Friend- Words of Affirmation

In the wee hours last night I had what my husband refers to as “a dark night of the soul”. I suddenly decided that all the decisions I had ever made in my life had were wrong, that no one believed in me, and that none of my dreams would come true. It was not a logical state, there was nothing rational about any of it. It was not dissimilar, I imagine, to a bad acid trip, though thankfully without hallucinations, and I was eventually able to sleep. These fearful and deluded introspections often happen at turning points as I peer over the edge of my life into the teeming void of my future. I suspect this is a normal phenomenon that happens to many. I, though, have a very fertile imagination and when I use it for evil instead of good...well I can come up with all sorts of terrible stories! I woke up this morning hung-over from a night of doubts and dread. It took me a while of lying in bed, blinking, staring at the ceiling to come back to reality. Why had I been filled with so much self doubt the night before? Why had it taken hold in the way it did, sucking me into a cycle of beration and negative self talk?

Once I emerged from my room I went to the farmers market with my family. I stopped at a stall run by my lovely friend Rachel, a talented goddess with a gentle fairy way. With genuine love she told me how much she was enjoying my blog. That she liked to make herself a warm drink and sit down with uninterrupted time to read. And that she had been inspired by the project to write 10 Open Heart Letters. Ok, so here is real live proof that this project was not a “wrong decision”. Besides Rachel I was surrounded by many other womyn friends, new and old, who tell me constantly they support me, believe in me, are conspiring towards my success.

After leaving the market I bumped into another friend, one who I dance with and knows of Soul Motion, the movement ministry I am working towards facilitating. I told her of an opportunity that recently came into my life, to work with a group to facilitate an ecstatic movement practice. I told her of all the fears that were covering me, clouding my vision. Asked if she would support me. She said “I already do! I so know you are just the person to lead this kind of group!”. More proof that my community supports me.

Next I walk into a local Hemp shop where a friend has recently hung her artwork. She tells me, as I admire the clean simple lines, that I am a big part of her art going up on the wall; that in encouraging her to do so she felt supported to take the leap. She spoke of overcoming fears with her art work, I spoke about my fears of leading a group in movement. She then tells me she can’t wait to dance in a space where I am facilitating. More love and support, more affirmation that I am on the right path.

As if all this loving encouragement was not enough, I then have yet another conversation to counter my fearful prostration from the night before. I am told that I exude confidence. This friend says he had no idea I EVER didn’t believe in my abilities to do ANYTHING. He was blown away that I was experiencing self doubt, said I ”hid it well“.

So why? WHY? Why with all this evidence to the contrary, is the dark side of my mind so bloody believable in those moments where I doubt all that I am? I know that likely tomorrow it will be clear, my answer to this question will come. For right now though what I really want to say is, THANK YOU friends! THANK YOU family! THANK YOU community for supporting me, for speaking your love for me. I really do need this. I recently had a bit of a running joke with a friend about ”Love Languages“. According to Dr. Gary Chapmen there are 5 of them. After a short online quiz I determined my love language is “Words of Affirmation”, meaning I need verbal encouragement. To all of you today who saw my need , whether you did so consciously or not...thank you, your support means the world to me. Not only that but it inspired the new 12 day commitment which begins tomorrow...but you will have to wait to find out.

12 days journal # 33 will be going out dancing with me tonight. I am confident that being amongst my many beautiful, talented, and intelligent womyn friends that we will meet more than a few strangers on the dance floor. Inside the front cover it reads, “In what ways do you receive support from your friends and family?”.

Day 10 New Friend- Good Enough

It is only 1:00p.m. in the afternoon and twice now the term “good enough” has come up. Once when I was trying to respond to a comment on the blog (YEAH for those who left comments on the blog. I LOVE YOU!), and another time when my friend Matthias asked me if I was using the “good enough” model of housekeeping in regards to yesterdays blog entry. I am not sure what he meant by this, but the fact that this idea of “good enough” has come up twice today...well that is “good enough” for me to know that it is what I am meant to focus on. I will use it as the inspiration for the question in 12 days journal #31 which I will send out into the world today, once I have found my stranger of course. But I am not sure how to word the question. What is it about “good enough” that pulls at me today? “Good enough” means many things to me. There is the way in which I am reminded that I AM good enough, just as I am, and that this is true for everyone around me. That there is no need to fill my mind with toxic thoughts of my thighs being too big, or my work not bringing in enough pay, or my way of living being too...something. That who and what I am is perfection in this moment, and that I can choose to celebrate what I am or nitpick it, neither changes what I am . Then there is the ”good enough“ when it comes to my day to day doings. If I decide to clean the kitchen and set myself an impossible standard, I go in conspiring towards my own failure, especially if I have time restraints, which is almost always. If I go in with the idea of ”good enough“, as in I will clean for the 15 minutes I have and the results will be ”good enough“, I am conspiring towards my own success. If I set myself an impossible standard that I cannot achieve, I generally don’t even try. Where as if I accept that what I can do is ”good enough“ and do just that, I am further along than if I never started, no matter how much I do. Since I have been home I have been worrying that my stranger encounters were not ”good enough“. The conversations have been fairly limited, the encounters a little forced. Not only were all these meetings ”good enough“, I am also forgetting to consider how these meetings effected the strangers I met. I realized my idea of ”good enough“ are often based in instant gratification, how the meeting went, rather than the out fall, or long term implications. Who knows, perhaps one of my strangers put the journal in their front pocket then in some freak circumstance it deflected a stray bullet which would have taken their life! Now that would make a great blog entry...but for now this one is ”good enough“.

And so in the spirit of ”good enough“ today’s question reads simply, “Are you good enough?”. Also in the spirit of “good enough” I am simply leaving this journal here in Sidewinders, a local cafe where I often come if I am away from home to use their internet connection to send these entries. Here I had a simple, lovely conversation with a womyn who I have seen round town but have never talked to. We spoke of the snow which fell this morning. How snow this time of year can get people so riled up but that it is merely an illusion as it melts as quickly as it falls. This simple but beyond the superficial conversation could easily be the beginning of a friendship, or we may never speak again, either way it is as it should be, either way it “good enough“.

Day 8 New Friend- Desperation

I must be putting off a desperate vibe. You know, that vibe you get when a good friend joins Agel or Melaleuca or Amway or whatever multi-level marketing craze is swooping down turning completely logical adults into lemmings? That vibe that has you avoiding them at all cost, because when you see them, all they want to talk about is how “EXCITED!” they are about this “Great new opportunity that has the power to change lives!!!!!”. Their face cast with a manic smile which screams, “I must make back some of the cash I dumped into this sinking ship!”. Well right now I am vibing, I NEED a stranger and bad! I am at the coffee shop trolling. I smile make eye contact and they go the opposite direction. Usually when I am here doing work I have to wear headphones and hunker so close to my computer that I am likely radiating my brain, just to get some peace. Often times this doesn’t even work, I will be interrupted countless times a day by friends and strangers alike looking for conversation. But not today, today as I sit all perky and ready to talk, I am ignored. What is this all about? What happened to manifestation? Perhaps Tuesday is grouch rules day for manifestation, I must have missed the email. The music has now been turned up loud, the plants are being watered. I am admitting defeat, it is just not going to happen.....not here. I must go vote anyway. Perhaps I will meet a stranger at the polls.

I got about 3 feet beyond the front door and met a travelling stranger. The saying, “All who wander are not lost”, came to mind. This soul looked a little lost, not in the never to be seen again way, but definitely on a journey of the soul. I let him know the coffee shop was not open, he inquired about where else in town to go. I directed him to the Coco Nut lounge, the only place in town that stays open late. And then I seized the moment. Just before he turned to walk away I asked him if he would do me a favour. I briefly explained that I needed to have a conversation with a stranger today as part of an experiment. I got today's journal out of my basket and asked him if he would take it, I told him he was my ”last hope“. He thoughtfully flipped the pages, eyed the book and said softly and with a just palpable hint of pain ”Thanks, perhaps this will bring mine back“. Apparently manifestation is also on for Tuesdays; looks like I just needed to be patient because someone needed the journal more than I needed an easy stranger.

If you are the travelling soul who I gave the journal to today I need to ask a favour. I usually write in the inside front cover where the journal was released and the date. Could you do this for me if you read this before passing it along? Thank you....and thank you for being my stranger for today. My wish for you is that you find the ”hope“ you have lost.

I am now off to vote for who will lead my province for up to the next 5 years. I am choosing someone who will not sell our rivers, our life blood. In honour of the Provincial elections the question, ”In what way are you the change you want to see in the world?“ is written in 12 days journal # 29.

Day 7 New Friend- Ho Hum

I don’t know if it was the rainy day, the fact that I am a little under the weather (still), or settling into the comfort of my own domain, but I just couldn’t manage a deep and meaningful conversation with a stranger today. If I would have gone out of my way to solicit one I could likely have, but that is not really want I am going for with this commitment. I want it to happen naturally, to be in the flow of things. The closest I came was a conversation with a womyn who approached me in town asking if I was hooked into the internet. I told her all the places where she could get connected, told her which ones had the strongest connection, which places were relaxed and didn’t bother you if you stayed a while. When she left I realized I had forgotten the best place of all, the local Library! Our family goes on a road trip every year, and libraries are always a God send. Internet cafe’s are wonderful, but having to buy coffee every time I want to do email (my main method of communication) is hard on my wallet and worse on my adrenals! I walked (well ran through a deluge actually) over to the library this afternoon and found the womyn I had NEARLY had a conversation with earlier. She had made her way despite my oversight. Before I left I placed 12 days journal #28 on one of the tables in the internet section of the library. In the interest of manifesting a great stranger story for tomorrow I wrote the question “Do you remember a time when a meeting with a stranger changed your life forever?” inside the front cover. I suppose not everyday can be filled with WW2 veterans and new age lawyers from Sebastapol!

“We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken.”
- Fydor Dostoevsky

Day 6 New Friend- Mother of all days

Just when I think I have it all figured out things go an change on me. As I sat in bed this morning anticipating my cold eggs and soggy toast, I was instead served coconut water straight from the nut, sliced apples and a spelt English muffin slathered in organic butter and buckwheat honey. I was given three colourful cards, a walking stick that had been sanded and oiled, a pair of earrings and a colourful tissue dyed scarf. All were handmade. My children have such amazing skills and take such care, as do so many of their friends. For instance a facebook chat bubble popped up while I was waiting for my breakfast. It was one of my eldest daughters friends. She says “Happy Mothers day!!! ...how do I make coffee?” We chatted back and forth, I walked her through making coffee in a bodum. When she was finished she thanked me and went off to serve her mother breakfast. We live in such an interesting and fantastic age. I am surrounded by children who, partly due to the culture in which they are immersed and partly attending Waldorf education, have an array of old world skills like woodworking, knitting, blacksmithing and many more, while at the same time they can use the internet to stealthy access their community to ask how to undertake such complicated endeavours as making the perfect cup of Jo! In the afternoon we went to brunch with my mother and brothers and their families, a crew of 11 of us. Then went garage saleing where a womyn was selling off all her earthly goods to go travelling. This delightful womyn sat patiently and told my daughters where every item they were purchasing came from, a hat from Bolivia, a pendent from Ecuador. They were enthralled. I thought about all the different kinds of mothers in the world. This womyn did not have biological children, but here she was taking the time to care for mine, she was so kind to them. As we walked away from the sale my girls were all smiling ear to ear, they were happy about their new (used) purchases, but more than that I believe their self esteem had been bolstered by this interaction with a stranger who cared. So here is to all that “mother” in this world but who are not mothers! You don’t have a Hallmark style day set aside but I want you to know that I see what you do and so do countless others. Thank you from one mother to another!

I went back later to give the 12 days journal #27 to her, but she was gone. I was sad, I wanted to give HER a gift this day. I had to settle for leaving it just outside of Save-On -Foods where I was headed to next. I knew once I made it home from getting groceries for that nights dinner I would not go out again, so the release of the journal was only loosely connected to today's stranger, but I am ok with that. In honour of today, the day of honouring mothers, the question inside the journal reads simply, “Tell me about your mother?”. This journal was the first I forgot to write in before it left my hands...so instead here is a picture of me and my mama (Oh and hey that is Pulpit Rock there in the background!). I have not told her about the project yet...today seems like a good day to do that. Happy Mothers day mama, I love you and all you do for our family. SMOOCH!

Day 5 New Friend- So many Brads'

Home again home again jiggety-jig! I nearly didn’t make it on my plane today. The airline lost my reservation. I stood at the check-in counter, while the flustered ticket agent went round and round with someone on the other end of the phone. When I fly home, I must touch down by 9:00 p.m. The border crossing into Canada closes at 12:00 midnight. It takes 3 hours to get to the crossing from Spokane where I land State side. As I stood at the counter the time tick tick ticked, at I began to realize I wouldn’t make the flight if I waited any longer, so I purchased a full fair ticket and told her I would sort it out on the other side. I ran full out to the gate to find out that the flight had been over sold and I wouldn’t make it on anyway. This is when the tears began to threaten. I have been told that I am about the most relaxed traveller there is. I didn’t get angry at the reservation being lost, cheerfully found my own solution to getting on the flight by buying a new ticket, said I would take care of refunding it myself later. I just wanted to get home in time to get across the border, to be able to fall asleep in my own bed and wake up to a delicious Mothers Days breakfast in bed of cold runny eggs and soggy warm bread. Mothers Day is by far one of the most fantastic days of my year. My children almost always make me something at school, and as they go to a Waldorf School this means the loot is generally very well made and filled with love. After making it all the way to the gate with a ticket in hand this womyn was still telling me I would not get on my flight, that instead I would be put on another that would get in after 9 p.m., my heart was breaking. I was imagining their disappointed faces at finding out I would not be home. Worse was how I imagined they would be so strong, say it was ok, they understood, all the while poking down their feelings of abandonment. So you know what I did? I just didn’t believe it. I saw myself getting on the plane, imagined myself walking down the gangway within the next 10 minutes. I did not get angry with the Southwest representative, I could see she too was frustrated. All I said was “Please get me on, I need to get home to my kids for Mothers Day, this flight is my only chance!”. I could see in her face she wanted to help, but didn’t know how she could. “We are missing 7 passengers”, came the voice over the intercom. She looked more excited than I did! she says “Did you hear that? Let’s go!” she took me over to the gate, smiled and said. “Happy Mothers Day!”. So here I sit, on my original flight. I will touch down in Spokane with plenty of time to get something to eat, drive back to my home country, slip under the covers, fall fast asleep, and wake up to 3 wonderful girls jumping into my bed to tell me I am the best mama in the world. I am not sure if they are right but I do know I have the best kids in the world...ya I know I am bias, but I don’t really care.

On the plane I sat next to a man named Brad. We spoke nearly the whole plane ride. He and his wife were going to see the eldest of their 5 sons for Mothers Day. I enjoyed speaking with brad, he told me stories which I will likely never hear the likes of again, at least not in person. He flew for the US Navy in World War 2, stationed out of Pearl Harbor. When he returned from the war, he found that his wife had chosen to move on. He said to me “I got a Dear John letter...I didn’t even know what a Dear John letter was...didn’t stop me from getting one though!”. He married again about a year and a half later to Cheryl, the womyn who sat on my right reading and occasionally confirming the odd bit of information Brad had forgotten. He and Cheryl had been married 63 years. When it came time to order our drinks Brad ordered white wine with ice. Cheryl tells me that he never ordered alcohol on flights before and certainly she had never known him to drink white wine, this was his second of the day. Nice to know that after 63 years there are still surprises. Brad was sharp, but being 93 he didn’t understand the concept of blogging. So when he asked for clarification about what I was writing. I said I was doing research and writing about it. He asked if I was going to write a book. Before I even really thought about the answer I said yes. He gave me his full name, address and phone number and told me, “Well you better hurry up and write it, I want to read it before I die, and at 93 I haven’t got much time left!”. Ok Brad...it’s a deal.

I left 12 days journal # 26 in the back pocket of my seat on Southwest flight 2816. I asked Brad if he would like to take it but he said he didn’t “do all that stuff”, meaning anything to do with computers. The question inside the front cover was inspired by this stranger who I met today, it reads “How long do you believe you will live? Why?”.

Day 3 New Friend- Last Day

I spent most of today in the Hills of Marin County. Hiking past raucous waterfalls and streams, which I am told is a fairly rare experience. All this rain has meant the lake is nice and high, the forest exceptionally green and the company I kept was chomping at the bit to get outside. We swam naked in the lake, a swim that washed away much that needed to be let go of. We sunned ourselves on the rocks with the salamanders. The conversation while often heavy, felt safe and as cleansing as the lake water. Once we got back to Fairfax, I felt like my day was done, full, I could ask for no more....I was wrong! Had I not have had to release a journal out to a stranger I may have gone back to the cozy room I have been staying in, snuggled under the lambskin covers and drifted off, but I had a commitment. I had bought a ticket a few days earlier to an event known as Free Range Sweat, where ecstatic dance is taken out into community events. Last night, and every Thursday, members of the ecstatic dance community gather at the California Academy of Sciences, Night life event, where the museum is opened up to exclusively the over 21 crowd. There is music and libations all in the most grandiose of settings. I arrived alone but knew I would find a tribe. I had not been in the building a minute, when I found a friend. One who lives in Bali no less. He was in the States for a very short time on business and was in fact leaving back to Bali that very night. We found a group of ecstatic dancers who we knew from various events and communities and danced...hard...till the shirts came off and the place was as lively as any dance club. The music ended but not the night. My Bali friend and I decided I would take him over to the airport in order to be able to connect, something we had never really done because of the group settings we had found ourselves in before now. It was at this point that I realized I had yet to find my stranger. As we walked back to his friend Melissa's car, we spoke only briefly, but I knew this may be my last chance. I asked her if she would take the journal. She agreed, a little confused, I explained that she just needed to read the front cover and she would understand. After hugs and good-byes we drove off to the San Francisco airport. It is amazing how intense things can become when there are time restraints. I explained this experiment and told him that 12 days journal # 24, which had been given to his friend Melissa, contained the question “If today were your last, what would you do with it?”. Without knowing I had touched on a topic which had been very much at the surface for him in the last 8 months. He shared his journey. We held each other in deep love. When it comes down to it in “real world” terms we hardly know each other. We have met only a handful of times, I knew his partner, a fellow Canadian, far better than I knew him, but it didn’t matter. We were experiencing an extraordinary circumstance; an Englishman who lives in Bali, meets up with a Canadian womyn on an unscheduled trip to the States, in a San Francisco museum, all with just 2 hours to explore this fantastic meeting we had manifested. As I kissed him good bye at security, it was 1:00 in the morning and I walked away knowing I had just experienced one of those events where life shifts, just like that.

I don’t often reveal what I write in each journal before it is sent out into the world. I do write in every one but I give myself the chance to be anonymous, and have yet to include it here. I am not going to break with tradition. But I am going to tell you that what I wrote in the journal, what I would do if the day were my last, was fulfilled. When I woke up yesterday morning I could have stayed caught in the web of murkiness that I have been stuck in these last few weeks, but instead I lived, and I did it big.

I received word from the recipient of the third Open Heart Letter and 12 days journal #12. He and his wife’s home is under threat of wild fire. So please keep them in you heart.

Day 2 New Friend- Ghosts

I saw a movie recently, in it is a line I just can’t get out of my head. The lead character, a player to the nth degree, says in regards to relationships, “the one who cares least has the most power”. I hated hearing this, mostly because it is true. Especially since I am one of those bleeding heart types. I do my best to be honest in every encounter, couple this with the fact that I have a huge capacity for love, and well I often end up being the one caring more. I have spent the majority of this day on this computer. Various email exchanges, some supportive, some messy. When I walked into the cafe, I should now be paying rent in, I saw a man sitting at a table the minute I came in. He met my eyes, said hello. I was muddled, confused and had the better part of a difficult email in my head. I wanted to get it down, send it away and not engage with anyone until I did. Ironic no? Given that I am trying to have conversations with strangers and here is this man totally willing to take on that roll and I am avoiding him. I kept my head down, hiding. He persevered. Came closer. Tried starting a conversation. At this point I had just received a response to my difficult email. My heart sank, tears welled, I thought “not here, not while I am being watched”. Then I realized I had to go move my car or be ticketed, I asked him to watch my things while I did. When I came back in it was inevitable, the conversation began. All he wanted from me was to talk, just human connection, and I was resistant because I was stuck inside my roller-coaster world. In the beginning I felt like I was being “nice” by talking to him, someone who seemed to be in need of connection. But ya know what? I felt so much better after our conversation, I had more clarity, and he likely saved me from adding a few (more?) four letter words into my email, which I compose once he left. I decided to care about this stranger, and it turned out I was giving care to myself. So perhaps caring more may leave us with less power in some ways, but in others it seems to be the ultimate safety net. In the short term it may give me less power but in the long run it means living life with honesty. I could choose to manipulate, doling out only parts of me, anticipating what the result might be given a select persons impressions of my words, admitting to only half truths, not accept responsibility for my part of things....naw that is too much work, takes too much time especially since I have a lot of loving to do.

The second Open Heart Letter was received today. I got the following email:

Bernice!
 
Your treasured experiment arrived in my mailbox today my dear curly-haired sister...and I am blown away.

Blown away by your beauty, your curiosity about life, your endless creativity, your divinely whimsical spirit, your deep, earthy love, and your gifts you are sharing with the world on this "12days2inspire" journey.

My eyes got glassy and my heart warm with joy reading your letter and blog entry. Gratitude pours forth from eyes and heart dear sister. I am deeply honoured to be chosen to participate in this incredible experiment. The more and more I discover about you, the more and more I know our sisterly connection goes well beyond our curly hair...but it was a fun place to begin, wasn't it?

Blessings to your dance Bernice...

And big, big, big love to you!

Love,
Steph

This makes me so very happy...sigh. Then later she emailed me and we set another commitment for me to adhere to until this commitment is done. Like a big sister she knows how to support me in supporting myself. Thank you sweet one.

So I am now taking my butt of this computer, away from the woes of substandard communication mediums and am going to dance myself into love love love and care care care.

Oh I almost forgot. My stranger come new friend of today, Keith, received 12 days journal #23, inside is written “How do you feel about honesty?”....I was surprised with the question, and told him so. He didn’t seemed surprised at all. It occurred to me that perhaps I had misconstrued the situation. Here I thought I was talking to a man who needed a connection, perhaps it was the other way round? Perhaps he had intuited that *I* was in need of connection. Thanks for the chat Keith, and happy dancing!!!

Day 1 New Friend- Manifestation

Shortly after the last entry I went to a local Natural food grocer in Fairfax. The Good Earth, is a bustling mix of healthy livin’ folk. A friendly bunch, but save the ones relaxing just outside the front door and on the patio, they are mostly set on getting their groceries and going home. I have never had a full blown conversation with a stranger there before. I have exchanged smiles and pleasantries, but nothing like what I experienced today. Despite the fact that it happens daily I am still amazed how the moment i send a request into the universe, she delivers.

I was searching for a single serving packet of almond butter while, holding a bouquet of flowers for a friend, when a handsome gentleman past by and said, “Beautiful flowers, for a beautiful womyn“. I smiled one of those big doe eyed smiles which sometimes get me into trouble and thanked him. He instantly doubled back, asked me my name, told me his, and we began to talk about love and relationships and how to gently lead ones partner to understanding our desires...all in under a minute! While I am no stranger to flirtation and open conversation, this was deeper than I usually go in so short a time. He confided that he is 62 and is in love for the first time, with his partner of 4 months.

When our conversation ended I realized my commitment for today was done, just like that. I went out to my car to get 12 days journal #22 and wrote the question, ”How do you get the love you want in your life?“ into the front cover. I found him just as he was coming through the check out line. I asked him to accept the journal. Directed him here to the blog to read more about my experiment. He agreed and said he was honoured. We shared a long deep hug and walked away. Me with my bouquet for a friend and he with the bouquet he decided to buy, upon seeing me with mine, for the love of his life. Goes to show it is never too late for love to arrive!

Latest Commitment! New Friend- By the skin of my teeth

I have had much anxiety over this next commitment. Mostly due to me having no idea what it would be until less than an hour ago. I have so many ideas for what I would like to try/accomplish/brave in the next 300+ days. I have no shortage of ideas. Part of the experiment though was not to pre-plan, to allow what emerges through this process to inform what the next commitment would be. I am in an interesting position of this being the first commitment I start while away from home. The commitment has to work for both here and at home, has to work with air travel, and has to be pertinent to where I am at in this part of the process. I have many ideas of fantastic commitments, ones I hope to try one day, but none of them worked for right now, for today and the 11 to follow. I called Chris and expressed my concern that I would not be able to come up with anything, that the whole experiment would fall apart a mere month in (hmmm that would be 1/12th of the way in, interesting) He seemed nonplussed, said he had no doubt I would come up with something. I then expressed concern to my good friend I am staying with here in Woodacre, he too seemed to have complete faith. It seems I am the only one doubting my ability.

I set off to town. Figured that sitting round worrying was counterproductive. I still had letters to mail, not everyone had got back to me with addresses. I had also to make up some journals, write this entry, and go buy some colourful markers to make the journals more visible. As I drove I made a mental list of tasks I needed to take care of. My mind wandered again to what I would be committing to today. I imagined myself sitting in the Fair Fix, a cafe in Fairfax with internet, good coffee and friendly servers, it is my California equivalent to Oso Negro back home. I have many great conversations here with strangers. I enjoy sharing my story, hearing theirs. I consoled myself that surely I would have a conversation with a stranger and that this would give me inspiration for the new commitment...BINGO!

For the next 12 days I commit to having a conversation with a complete stranger, making a new friend. I will either leave the journal with them, or somewhere connected to the conversation. While I am comfortable talking to people I do not know, committing to doing this every day for 12 days is stretching my limits somewhat. Perfect.