After a whirlwind trip to Hollywood, I can say that I learned a lot about myself and who I could be.
The best part of my trip apart from the business end was meeting with some awesome folks who have done similar things to what I have done, who feel the same anxiety and insecurity about putting out their life’s work, but who did it anyway!
Wow!.. I have been to LA before, thanks to my dearest friend who passed away in 2005. We had a great time on Rodeo Dr., in Malibu and just taking in the sights and sounds of the legendary city. This time I went to fulfill a childhood dream, because the opportunity was presented to me. My hotel was located on The Avenue of Stars surrounded by MGM, Century Fox, etc. You get the idea.
I don’t know how many times I have told my clients that spending time with other people who are sharing your experience builds your own confidence and gives you support. The truth of my words came back to haunt me in the nicest way. Strangely, the concept of shared anxiety and excitement was echoed in my choice of flight movie, Love and Other Drugs with Jake Gyllenhaal and Anne Hathaway. Please see it.
So, one hundred and fifty or so aspiring authors from across Canada and US got together with reps from the industry. Our goal was to sell our compelling stories to the arts media. The ages ranged from 15 to 90+ years. Some of the stories put out were fascinating to me, others less so but what was most compelling was the individual’s own journey into authorship and their belief in the rightness of what they were doing. I was inspired.
I commend the organizers for keeping anxiety to a low level hum, while helping all of us to put our best foot forward in selling our stories. I will write a little more about this journey in the days to come but for now I can ‘chill down’ and think about my next move.
I remember when my second son passed his driver’s test. He walked down the road towards me but didn’t see me immediately. When he did, he jumped up in the air and pumped his fist in utter relief and release for that small challenge met. I am too old to jump and too conservative to do fist pumping but I sure can relate to what he felt that day.





With regret
May 21, 2011 by vetivera24
Today as I walked around the boxes which contain artifacts and treasures from the past ten years of my life, I reflected on the sadness which loss always brings, even as I look with anticipation towards the future.
I have never been one to dwell on negatives but I often think about the difference between losing a loved one and losing a dream.
Our family and close friends are tied into the plans we make for our future but a dream is born of ourselves and represents the creative forces which drive our soul forward to its life lessons.
Women have traditionally had this creative force realized with the conception and birth of a child. What of women who never conceive? What do they have to drive their lives forward? It has always been a question in my head and a reason why I celebrate all women on Mother’s day. I was once told that the ability to create is not confined to procreation but all things which are born of our desire.
I have been lucky to have children and a strong creative drive. I thank my teachers past and present for their input.
Many years ago, I realized a dream to become an interfaith minister. My hope was to establish and operate a small church or sanctuary which would be the home base of services geared towards women affected by a challenging history. The Sanctuary at Hestia’s Hearth became a reality. The loss of my business partner and best friend just after our opening didn’t derail the program and services, but the energy needed to sustain it.
Five years after her death, I finally acknowledged the realization that the dream was not to be fulfilled in the way it was first envisioned. With a few prayers, I found a loving couple, or rather they found me and chose to live in the home attached to the Sanctuary.
As I survey the boxes filled with treasures and collectables which had been chosen to grace the walls and tables and corners of the sanctuary, I have come to understand that they represent nothing unless I choose to make them the symbols of a failed enterprise. They are not the dream nor are they attached to the dream. The dream is with me and dies when I die unless I allow it fall by the wayside of self defeat.
So I have said my goodbye to the dear friend who taught me much about life. I will say my goodbyes to the building, the things, the space and even the person I was ten years ago and move on to a future whose enterprise is yet to be realized but whose dream is alive and well.
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