i had dinner a while ago with two of my girlfriends at a sumptuous French bistro by the bay in San Francisco.

these women are both stunningly beautiful, smart as whips and entrepreneurial wizards.

one’s married to a gorgeous surgeon at the best hospital in SF, is about to give birth to her first baby any day now and is glowing and at ease since she just put two year’s worth (!!!) of income in the bank so she can give herself completely over to mommy hood.

the other had recently spoken to an audience of several thousand people, is in an epic love affair with a millionaire celebrity hottie and was sharing about her travels with dear girlfriends to four exotic countries last year while bringing in near seven figures in her biz.

they both radiate health, style, quiet self-confidence and soul-deep contentment.

i was showered in enough brilliance to put PG&E out of business and light up the evening skyline.

so, then the question is: was i crawling out of my skin with envy?  did i carefully watch what i said, for fear of seeming stupid or inept?  did i worry they would talk shit about me later?  did i feel less beautiful, less successful and less lovable as i compared myself to these women and their lives?

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in this vein of how you do one thing is how you do anything …

… if someone observed you making love or in orgasm, what would they infer for how you lead your life?

by O, orgasm i mean, yes, sexual arousal and sensual expansion, but i also mean: your pleasure, your bliss, your ability to relax and receive.

which sounds most like how YOU do the DO?

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each year as the leaves turn orange and brown around the edges and the nip of cold sets in in the air, I start to have dreams of my father.

after several nights in a row of these home-comings, i remember that the anniversary of his death, the day of the dead, is coming close.

it’s been five years, and so today i celebrate?  no.  grieve?  no.  bow to?  yes, this long stretch of time since i got to hold his strong hand, behold his beautiful mind, feel his beautiful heart.

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have you ever read an article or poem that rings so true you feel like you could have written it?  and that is so good you wish you did write it?

this one is all that for me and so i share it with you.  it's The Call, by Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

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in case your week could use a shot of truth, here's one straight-up, The Invitation, an otherworldly one from Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

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