“It is good to love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is well done.”
This coming Thursday I will be on my way to Sedona, Arizona, to begin writing my tenth book at another retreat with my writing coach Tom Bird.
Just as every child has his or her own journey, every book has a process – a conception, a gestation and a birth – unique unto itself.
Being a medical intuitive healer, I have learned the value of following my soul guidance on literally everything.
For example, yesterday I was in the grocery with my cart already loaded to check out.
My guidance said, “Wait, go look in the frozen foods.”
And there were my favorite yogurt bars, buy one get one free. Chocolate, check. Pistachio, fudge, salted caramel and more.
Psychic shopping works every time!
Years ago my guidance told me I had to go to a certain store that very same day. Not the next day. That day.
Not knowing why, I drove about 40 minutes to a consignment store.
I walked around staring at the cluttered rooms stuffed with used furniture, not really sure why I has been told to go there or what it was I should be looking for.
Just as I was ready to walk out the door I looked over my left shoulder and saw the most beautiful desk.
That desk, of course, is now my desk – a kidney shaped Hooker desk feminine enough for me and study enough to support me in my business.
And because I found it at the consignment store I got the very best desk at a price I could afford – oh and a brand-new ergonomic chair to support my back at one-third the retail price.
My last book, The Little Book of Breathwork, was a total struggle between my guidance and my ego.
My guidance kept telling me I needed to write that book -“YOU, do it” – but my ego kept asking, “Are you SURE?”
I must have asked my angels “Are YOU sure?” at least 100 times as if I had not actually heard the answer clearly the first time.
People who operate through a more logical, linear approach may be able to relate.
“Where’s the proof?” a logical person might think.
“Will it make money?” a financially prudent operator might ask.
“Who will read it?” a less faithful person might worry.
But as I was at my last writing retreat, pouring my heart out, I saw my why quite clearly.
I understood why I had to write that book – it had to be birthed by me, which is not to be egotistical, it just needed to come the way I have come, through the path I alone have traveled, having been to the places I have been and spoken to those I have counseled so that I would know how to speak the truth in a down-to-earth, honest, kind and easy-to-relate-to manner.
Sometimes before I write a book I write blogs as rough drafts of chapters.
Just as a painter sometimes draws and paints sketches, I will write little blogs as a manner of clarifying my own thoughts.
But this book, which I shall not name, has a totally different birth process.
It spoke its name.
I copyrighted the title after determining no one else has claimed this fabulous moniker.
I poured through my photographs to narrow down four images from which I will cull the final picture for the cover.
Ramajon Cogan, my book designer, texted me a thumbs up. It will be stunning!
I created an infographic of my thoughts, only to discover the software I used would not allow me to download my image.
By hand I then drew out a mind map – not an outline – on a large 9 by 11 pad of paper.
Every day I have been staring at this mind map, hoping my writing angels will be ready to channel through me.
But as I sit with my laptop, ready to perform, my angels refuse to let me start quite yet.
Instead, my soul guidance has advised me to rest.
So I find myself often lying in my hammock, snuggling with my dog Dixie, staring up at the trees in the early morning hours before the August heat takes over.
This advice to rest I know from previous experience has great wisdom.
My best analogy for writing a book is that it’s like giving blood.
Not just giving your blood but your soul, every piece of you up until that moment goes into each and every word of a book.
Before the last writing retreat I attended in March 2019, I experienced a series of drop-everything disasters.
Someone smashed my mailbox.
Both of my websites crashed.
My accountant made a series of mistakes.
My wine cellar flooded.
I had no choice but to leave all else aside and cope with each disaster.
So when I arrived to finish The Little Book of Breathwork, I had spent my physical, emotional and mental energy so completely the only thing left to give was my soul.
As stubborn as my ego had been, the events of the previous month had worn me down so all I could do was channel.
This next book, my tenth, clearly requires a less fuzzy head.
And yet, by refusing to give me anything other than a title, a cover image and an outline, my angels still hold my ego at bay.
“Wait,” they say.
“Stare up at the sky.
“Look for hawks.
“Do nothing right now.”
And so I await, listening intently for the words that are sure to come!