I bought a gift at Starbucks, having forgotten earlier in the day to find something with meaning. I scoured the shelves, scanned the offerings on the counter. What could I buy for one of my dearest friends on the occasion of her office open house?

And there it was. A journal called ONE and with inspiring quotes and quips to ponder and this for a woman who journals incessantly, channeling the universe, communing with Spirit. It’s like I was meant to forget to buy a different gift and steered to nothing less than a ubiquitous chain shop by some hand reaching down from the heavens. Because this gift was waiting for me.

And in her thank you letter to everyone who attended, Carolyn quoted from the journal I gave her. The words are prescient, I think, as we face times filled with fear and gripped by the lowest energy. I share them now but hold on to your seat because I have more to say:

How many people does it take to make a difference?


One song can spark a moment.

One flower can wake a dream.

One tree can start a forest.

One smile begins a friendship.

One handclasp lifts a soul.

One star can guide a ship at sea.

One word can frame the goal.

One vote can change a nation.

One sunbeam lights a room.

One candle wipes out darkness.

One laugh will conquer gloom.

One step must start each journey.

One word must start a prayer.

One hope will raise our spirits.

One touch can show you care.

One voice can speak with wisdom.

One heart can know what’s true.

One live can make a difference.

That difference starts with you.


In the past two weeks, I have felt the acrid air of bad energy and misguided intentions swirling around me like a cloud of locusts. On Monday night, I stared out at the bare trees, their outline against a milk-chocolate night, and let angst spiral out to the universe. I banished the bad energy that I’ve received from others and I invited only love and goodness to stay.

The middle part of this week responded well to that. Conciliatory notes and calls of kindness abounded. There was space to breathe. And I did my work in good conscience and in earnest, proud of every word, connected to the very people I feel lucky to work with.

But the bad energy comes a’knocking at the door again and again. It is tough, I tell you, and it keeps coming back. I believe it will try until/unless I let it in, but I am trying not to succumb to it, trying to weather the storm of insecurity around me and the pervasive fear and loneliness that so many are mired in.

We are living in unprecedented times. But that doesn’t have to forecast failure and demise. It can mean rebirth, it can mean a new existence, it can and should mean a different color on the horizon.

There is still a horizon. There always will be. The economy won’t grind to a standstill. It isn’t possible. And those who are creative and innovative and GOOD will persevere. I’m counting my pennies like everyone else these days but I’m also counting the ways the sun arches over the trees in my backyard and reveling in the soft cheek of my child’s smiling face.

It’s all good, you know. It’s all good.

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