Before reading this post, which was written on March 11 (I always write my posts a week in advance), I just need to add a thank you for all of the kind responses/comments, even cards, which continue to arrive about my post regarding Rick’s vertigo. We both feel very blessed to have so many supportive and nurturing people in our lives. And to update you, Rick has been getting along great ever since. We are doing our homework and learning about the different types of vertigo, so that hopefully, we will be better equipped should it happen again! 

I’m posting a picture of my weeping maple tree which sits outside my kitchen window. This time of year, it is simply breathtaking. I chose this photo because as spring arrives, this tree reminds me that regardless of emergency room visits or horrific world news, nature is constant and right outside my door, reminding me of the beauty that always is there for the taking, even in the worst of times. I think of that truth as God/the Universe’s way of holding my hand through the tough times. 

I had intended to write a third post in my series about ageism in the work place, but today all I can think about are the refugees in Ukraine. All problems and concerns in life are important, it’s not really about comparing. But after scrolling through the internet this morning catching up on news of Ukraine, the images have remained with me throughout the day. Visions of families, children and the elderly walking with a bag in each hand has left me quiet, reflective and very sad.

I keep looking around my house, considering my abundance, and wondering what items I would choose if I could but fill only two bags to leave my home. What shoes would I select that would help me walk as many miles as I needed to reach safety. In the holocaust, the wrong selection of shoes many times led to an untimely death. 

I have experienced two evacuations due to nearby fires, but that reality involved insurance and the chance to rebuild at some point. These refugees are fleeing their homes and leaving behind all of their belongings, very likely never to return again. No rebuilding, no insurance claims to replace all that they have lost. And that is only the brick and mortar; how do you replace your community, history, friends and neighbors?

What upsets me is that in most respects my actions seem useless in terms of helping any of the Ukrainian people. My mind seems to turn over and over, like rubbing my fingers along a stone, trying to making sense of the world and its crimes against humanity. Short of praying, lighting my candles, making donations, how can I possibly help? 

While a crisis across the world feels difficult to influence, what I do have control over is my small circle, a sphere that I have the ability to influence. I can be extra kind to my neighbors and loved ones, knowing that they too are likely frightened and upset with the world. I can smile and nod at a stranger, reminding them of the human kindness we all possess. I can send my prayers and light my candles of hope. I can make donations to causes that I trust will help the victims. And as crazy as it sounds, I can clean.

Cleaning has always been one of my therapies, along with gardening. Today I hand watered both the front and back yards. I pulled out plants that didn’t make it through the winter, and washed down the walkways with my hose, even though I should have been sweeping to save water. Some part of me rebelled. The act of washing away the dirt/debris felt good and more than that, necessary for my soul. I cleaned the cat box. I filled the bird bath in the front, and cleaned the fountain on the back deck which was in dire need, way overdue. The little yellow birds that love to play in that fountain were watching from the liquid amber trees. Geez, lady, it’s about time you cleaned our fountain. 

Rick found me sitting on the floor in our hallway cleaning the bottom of each doorframe and wall corner where the cats brush against. He commented that I seemed to be doing some random cleaning. 

He was right. I was comforting myself by taking care of my small sphere the best I could, thanking God that I have this blessed opportunity to tend to such seemingly insignificant chores. There are two million and counting souls that would give anything to be worrying about cleaning their homes.

I likely will have an immaculate house by the time this war ends. Hopefully I will have made a difference in my small world of people that I interact with on a regular basis. I will light my candles and say my prayers for Ukraine. I will donate what I can to help the refugees. And most importantly, I will continue to believe that goodness will prevail, regardless of how long that reality may take. 

A few mornings ago, greeting the day making my way out to the kitchen, my day took a turn for the worse. That phrase would beg reconsideration by the end of the day. Stay with me… 

Rick had just finished his breakfast at our cute little stool slot in the kitchen counter, which he frequently eats at if I’m only having a shake or hurrying to walk with my neighborhood buddies! I gave him a hug and a kiss and started to walk away as he let out a disturbing sound. I turned around to see him in distress. 

It seems I’m a screamer. Oh my God, how I wish I wasn’t. What good does it do to scream? While I understand that, my mouth just has a mind of its own, and out comes the scream. As Rick made his way to the floor, I took control of my senses and stopped screaming. Good girl. 

Seeing this pillar of strength lying on the floor was a first for me. Thankfully he was breathing and talking, and his color was good, so I could take comfort from these facts. But he was not going to be able to lift himself from the floor, not even his head. Our 911 phone responder was terrific. He helped me feel as though I was not alone in terms of caring for Rick, talking me through the experience, even looking out for our animals, telling me to lock them up so that the first responders could enter without endangering the animals. 

And the first responders were just as exceptional. Within minutes we had six to eight angels in our home taking fantastic care of Rick and me. If anyone thinks there is only one patient to care for, that’s a misnomer. There is the patient and then the family, who may be much needier.

In short order, it was determined that they would need to transport Rick to the hospital. I would close up the house and follow behind.  I had faith that they would transport Rick safely on his journey to the awaiting hospital staff.

Following through the canyon in pursuit of this man who makes my days lying in an ambulance on his way to the hospital felt a little surreal. I worked on restoring my breath as I rhythmically took each turn, right to left, left to right, decidedly no music on this journey as it felt like a distraction. There seemed only enough room in my car for me and God and the trees that guided me down the canyon. By the time I had reached the bridge, I had managed to find a calmness of sorts, the best I would accomplish under the circumstances.

A few hours later, when I sat next to Rick in the ER, finally able to hold his hand between the sidebars on the ER bed, all I could think about was how good his soft, warm hand felt. His mind was sound, his heart was strong, and all he had was an inner ear problem, vertigo. And that’s not to downplay vertigo, but of the possibilities that were being discussed, vertigo was the best choice!

I have been crying tears of gratitude ever since. I also have been reminded of the importance of the reset. 

Unfortunately, I’ve met a few roadblocks in my life and also had bridges wholly washed away. There is a significant difference. How I think of the reset is that my road wasn’t washed away. I was luckily just reminded of how important my life is and those who inhabit my world. 

The reset, it seems, is not a turn for the worse; instead, it is nothing short of a blessing.

(Grade school photos with a simple signature on the back, Love Suzy.)

My post last week received several responses from my readers. It appears I am not alone in my thinking. Thank you for your comments, messages, and emails. It’s always helpful to hear others’ opinions, thoughts, and suggestions. For instance, Doris’ suggestion to consider volunteering is a fabulous idea. Volunteering for a cause dear to one’s heart is a great way to stay connected and feel vital as we age. 

But what does one do who still needs the income? How do we re-educate the world that those cute little sayings, 40 is the new 50, etc., are actually true? How do we teach a throw-away society that repurposing people as well as objects is important for the future health of our world?

The good news is that, for now, the world seems to be coming to grips with the fact that we are facing a severe crisis going forward if we do not make significant changes in our ways. There is no end to documentaries that explain the changes in our rain forests and oceans, the problem with our fishing industries, etc. 

We baby boomers are the first line of defense in the war against ageism. We have a unique and special gift of being a generation that has benefited from advanced and innovative healthcare, which has the potential to extend our life expectancy by a decade or more.

That makes us pioneers, and as such, we have a unique battle to wage. We can’t really expect our youth to be worried about what to do with the growing number of seniors that can’t find work or afford their health expenses as they live to be 90 or 100. The younger generation is struggling in their own right, wondering what to do with the world we will be leaving them with all of its very frightening problems.

Here’s my thinking just for starters on how we can help ourselves change how seniors are perceived. I will write this in terms of a senior looking for employment, but these ideas are universal.

Number one, whatever we are trying to succeed in, we need to be our biggest advocate! And that might sound simple. But for us baby boomers, maybe not, and it’s essential to understand ourselves. Tell me if you agree…

I grew up in an age when my actions were far more important than my grades. My report card had one side for the letter grade and another side for my citizenship, which could be a plus or a minus. And I’m here to tell you if I had a minus on my citizenship, I was in trouble, but not so much if I came home with a C- for the subject matter. 

I didn’t learn about college in grade school. I didn’t have a phone by fifth grade. I didn’t have an arsenal of personal photos by the time I was 13. I had just enough yearly school photos to give to my best friends signed “Love Suzy” on the back. I never bragged about myself because if I did, I’d be labeled as conceited or, worse yet, stuck up. Right? We didn’t have classes or counseling to help us learn to love ourselves. We didn’t get participation trophies. We were just lucky if we had a family that showed us love and was proud of us. Some people didn’t even have that, or even if they did, their parents were old school and didn’t show it. 

As such, many of us baby boomers have difficulty crusading as our own biggest advocates because we haven’t been appropriately wired. How can we fake it, or better yet, connect those wires to catch up?

As we move through this new time, we must walk through the door exuding confidence. If we can’t bring that, we likely are dead in the water. We don’t need to be loud or braggadocious (there’s a word for you), but we must own our strength and the value of our years, all that we have learned, and all that we have to share. If we can find the strength to step into our truth, we’ll have them at Hello.

Loving ourselves is always the first step. We can work from there if we can just ease into that simple task. 

Changing our expectations is also crucial. We must not claim defeat if we find it necessary to adjust because we are aging. I trust the universe to always offer a path. I will confess I have judged the paths I’ve been offered at times. I’ve likely turned down some great experiences. But thankfully, I incorporated a bit of humility along the way and began to allow for my aging. And once I got out of my own way, I opened the door that in turn led me to this love affair I am having with writing in my senior years. Baby steps can have a way of adding up to the journey of a lifetime.

Please share your ideas and suggestions for overcoming the perils of aging. It takes a village.

This week has slowed down in terms of book activities. I’ve been using my time to learn about networking platforms and continuing to reach out to folks about my book. In the meantime, I wanted to write about something that’s been on my mind; actually, it’s a topic I did discuss in the book— maintaining and securing employment as we enter our senior years.

I’ve been contemplating the phrase “put out to pasture,” which is a term used both for animals and people. If one was a horse, it would mean the animal had worked hard for many years, whether racing or working on a farm, their body was tired. They would be put out to enjoy their senior years in a pasture where they could feed on the sweet green grass and enjoy the sunshine… a positive thing.

As a person in the workplace, “put out to pasture” means losing your place in the employment stream due to age, even when one’s mind might be active, keen, and robust. The numbers just don’t add up. There’s unemployment far too early and no sweet green pasture waiting to feed upon.

AARP offers discounts for anyone over 50, which is pretty young to be considered a senior, but not in the employment industry. Personally, I think it’s a bit backward. Just as a person has begun to master their craft and hopefully learned to get by in the workplace under all sorts of adverse conditions, they often become displaced. 

I most always consider life in terms of nature. I’m constantly comparing my ideas with how Mother Nature handles herself. While spring is lovely, full of growth and renewal, autumn is one of the most celebrated seasons, with good reason. There is time to breathe in all the beauty of the hard work of prior seasons. If I had to give up all the seasons but one, I’d keep autumn. But the truth is, for me, winter would give autumn a run for her money. (I know, my readers are probably asking themselves, “winter?”) But I love a good storm; it must be my Scorpio nature.

Nature finds room for all of her creations. Tender volunteer plants sprout without human encouragement, weeds, flowers, vegetables, fruits, pine trees, bamboo gardens, ferns, palm trees, plumeria; there’s no end to nature’s ability to include all of her creations. 

One of my favorite trees resides on the edge of our property, a majestic oak, which has a life span of 150-300 years. The tree is likely 100-150 years old, just reaching middle-age. And along with a few other oaks on our property, it is the richest part of our land. If something happened to our house (heaven forbid) we could replace that. But we could never replace 150-year-old trees.

When I contemplate companies swapping out middle-aged employees for younger ones, I consider the idea of replacing my beautiful oaks with a few new saplings I could pick up relatively cheaply at Eisley’s, my favorite nursery in Auburn. That visual for me packs a punch.

Our world, it seems, places more value on speed than on excellence. Everyone is moving so quickly, but I’m here to tell you I’d rather wait 20 minutes for a great pizza than receive a crappy one in five. Speaking of that, we want to put a pizza oven in our backyard soon. Those pizzas will take a long time to prepare and bake, but what a gift they will be (once I master the whole dough thing.) I had to digress a bit, as I sounded a bit too preachy. But my words have merit. 

What prompted this subject for me is a post I read on Linkedin about a man in his mid-fifties who feels unimportant and unable to secure employment after a successful career. I felt sad after reading his post. And a good friend of mine who is middle-aged has also been interviewing and feeling a bit discouraged. I’ve been grumbling to myself this past week and just needed to shout it out to the blogosphere. Newer, quicker, shinier is not better. It’s just newer, quicker, and shinier. Youth and beauty are wondrous in a world that combines all the ages but lacks when it stands alone. We humans seem to be a slow grow as we continue to select priorities that work against us in all respects, our environment, our businesses, and our relationships.

I wanted to list just a few of our earth’s oldest trees, asking the collective to contemplate our world without these ancient treasures…

Cypress, Pine, Sequoia, Juniper, Redwood, Cedar, Olive, Oak.

Ancient trees have proven to thrive in many different latitudes, elevations, and with many other specimens. We need to take nature’s lead, acknowledge the wisdom that comes with age. I recently read that going forward, people can expect to live half of their lives over the age of 50. In my way of thinking, at 66, that makes me a teenager. And for the generation after mine, the gravity of this reality will only multiply. Creating an environment that appreciates aging is imperative. 

I have a few more thoughts about the aging crusade, which I will share next week.

My book club meeting was genuinely delightful. Staying with our friends Mike and Carole was like every visit, filled with great company, delicious food, and lots of laughter. Is there anything better? Not in my book, no pun intended. 

There is something about spending time with the people I grew up with that feels good down to my core. They’ve known me for… well, let’s move on. But suffice it to say long enough that they are a part of my foundation, have influenced who I have become, and can never be replaced.

The book club women and their husbands arrived at 4:00 on Saturday. We began with happy hour. I thought I might be nervous; I really wasn’t. I thankfully realized beforehand that even if these ladies hated the book, they are far too kind to ever let me know that. I’m glad that I was cognizant of that fact, as it allowed me to relax and take it all in.

I had one-on-one discussions with various members at different times, which left me beyond humbled. And before we all sat to discuss the book in greater detail, we took an updated EBC picture(above) in the same location as the original photo, fun stuff. (In addition to me being in the picture, you might notice one other slight difference.) 

After our photo session, we began discussing the book in earnest. What a great discussion, lots of feedback, and thought-provoking questions about the actual experience of writing the book, how it affected me, and what my takeaway was. It was an honor to explore these topics with such incredible women. 

 Writing a book about your life feels, I would imagine, somewhat like being a race car driver. You develop and create your vehicle, and then you take it out to the track and race it around and around, hoping for the best. The turns all look somewhat alike, and until someone hands you some trophy, it’s nothing more than a labor of love.

And I’m an advocate of the labor of love, for sure. Achieving a dream is always worth the challenge, even if I’m the only one who understands! But this weekend felt as if I had been handed a trophy. So, thank you, ladies and gents, for coming together to share your support. I will be tucking your treasured comments away and pulling them out whenever I feel less than confident in my writing or just need a boost. 

I’m sharing a bit of my feedback from the EBC.

“It was beautifully written and really did provide some lessons for all of us. I thought of it as a combination of memoir, diary, and self-help. One takeaway I had is how we speak to ourselves and that we should show that same kindness we afford others on ourselves. 

“Sue didn’t shy away from sharing uncomfortable situations, which took a lot of courage. I think of it as an inspirational and positive playbook for approaching age and life. Love my favorite Yogini – wayward or otherwise.” -Carole D

“I’m impressed with Sue’s heartfelt approach to personal and sensitive topics and allowing herself to be a truth-sayer to people going through similar, devastating life experiences. She tells the readers that it’s ok to not be ok with life’s ups and downs even when the universe may expect us to always be resilient. She also reminds me of Gloria Steinem’s great statement (later used by the great philosopher Jim Carrey in Liar, Liar) ‘The truth will set you free!’ 

“I particularly liked the chapter ‘Manifesting’. It very much resonated with me. Having the author (Sue!), present added a depth to our conversation that we might have missed. She is genuine and open in her assessments of her life experiences and I look forward to her next book!” -Mary B 

“The thing I liked most about the book was the thread of positivity that was woven throughout each chapter. The book resonated for me on many levels; growing older, caring for one’s parents, hanging out with one’s adult children. 

I enjoyed the short chapters. The book was not wordy. I am not a fan of writers who fill up pages with a lot of words, maybe to make the book longer? Not sure. But Sue, your book did not do that. I found the book to be heartfelt and honest. You did a great job getting across the messages you were sending throughout your book. Maybe I should rephrase that by saying the messages you were manifesting throughout the book. Congratulations Sue!! Job very well done.” -Pat M

Feeling tremendously grateful. Until next week…

This week has been pretty eventful, and luckily I finally have the energy to put toward all things book. A few days ago, I submitted Lessons of a Wayward Yogini for consideration as a future selection for Richard Branson’s book club, Reading with Richard, on Literati. What a fantastic opportunity if I could but manifest. 

I know it’s an extreme long shot. I’m sure Literati receives thousands of submissions monthly, and I feel vulnerable even admitting that I sent my book in. 

A part of me thought about dismissing the idea of blogging about my newest endeavor; if I never heard back from Literati, no one would be asking me about it. But for better or worse, I committed a few years back to being vulnerable in my blog/book, and it seems to have brought me some beautiful experiences, so now is not the time to begin holding back. 

And I have to share that my favorite comments from readers have been when someone says, “hey, reading your book made me reconsider my goals and feel more confident about taking chances.” 

I recently learned about Literati, an exciting online book club that offers books for all ages. The club has 17 interesting luminaries that head different clubs that offer distinct genres and themes. They send a monthly book or books to their members and then provide several online meetings to discuss the month’s chosen book. Pretty cool, right?

And from a writer’s point of view, anyone can submit their writing/book for consideration as a featured writer, even if they haven’t been published. “A good story is a good story,” as their email said. I love this concept of opening a door for talent.

Many of my readers know I worked for Virgin America for seven years before their acquisition by Alaska Airlines. It was a great experience. My book a reality as opposed to remaining a line item on my bucket list has much to do with the can-do attitude I experienced at Virgin and the chance meeting of my writing coach at a seminar I attended during the last year at the company. 

I say, let’s add another chapter to this story, Richard!

And speaking of book clubs, Saturday afternoon is my first book club event with the delightful ladies that make up The Eclectic Book Club. It will be great fun to meet with the group after many years away. The evening will undoubtedly be filled with great discussion, food for thought, food for consuming, and I’m sure some excellent half bottles of wine. 

I have some humorous thoughts about arriving in some big get-up of an outfit, sunglasses, my hair piled high, maybe under a big hat, acting like some big shot, something like the picture above of me at four years old. 

Joking aside, the reality is that in this last week, anticipating this weekend, I have had flashbacks of one particular meeting I attended years ago with the girls of the EBC. We enjoyed a delicious meal and talked about the book of the month. 

I can clearly see myself sitting at the table in my mind’s eye, unaware that I would meet these same women to review my book one day. I am beyond humbled and appreciative of this journey. And all I can hear is my mom’s voice, “thank you, God… THANK YOU, GOD!”

In 2019 I wrote a blog post about my mom’s final days when she shared a prayer with her hospice worker and me. I am especially fond of this post. Here is the link if you’d like to read it. https://sueferrera.com/2019/01/26/thank-you-god-thank-you-god/

(photo is of Mercedes Fleming at KFOK and me)

As I wiped the sleep from my eyes this first morning of February, I had the feeling I had lost a day. As I moved slowly through the morning, that feeling morphed into feeling more like I had skipped a month. What the heck happened to January? 

Spending the early days of the month winding up the holidays and losing a few weeks with the bleep-bleep rash, it’s definitely time to get moving again with book promotion work, yard work, life work. I’m feeling ready and excited now that my itching has subsided. 

I did work in the yard this week, finally pruning a few of my hydrangeas which had been waiting oh so patiently for me. I’m almost done with the winter pruning, a good thing since spring is lurking just around the corner.

And I did manage to plan a few book events and had my second interview on KFOK, Mercedes Fleming’s Sunday noon show on January 23. This interview was delightful. Given that it was my second interview and briefer than the first, I did not feel nervous for the most part. Actually, I felt like I was visiting with a new friend. I appreciate Mercedes’ willingness to help me promote my book. 

And next guest spot on her show will be Rick. For years Rick and I have joked that he would make a good DJ. He’s got a great baritone voice and knows much about music and musicians, especially our era. I talked about Rick with Mercedes, and she invited him to her show. I’ll keep you posted on that!

And speaking of radio programs, I’m working toward hopefully getting another interview on KVMR, a PBS station out of Nevada City. We listen to their station quite often, a variety of great programs. When Rick and I were in Nevada City a few months back, he made an unexpected left turn. I asked him where we were going. “You’ll see.” A minute later, we were sitting in the rain in front of the KVMR station. 

The station was on my list of places to contact. They were closed to the public due to Covid. I approached the door to read the posted information, and a woman exiting the building took the time standing in the rain to ask me if I needed any help. Coincidence? 

We began chatting, and she took my book to deliver to the box of a broadcaster who had a show that might fit my book. I was able to connect with the DJ this week. She’s going to check out my book, along with my website/social media, talk to her director and get back to me. Fingers crossed. 

I also attended my second writers’ group meeting at my neighbor Debby’s house, which was awesome. Lots to learn there, plus just a fun group of people to connect with. And in two weeks, I have my first book club event with the Eclectic Book Club women, which I can’t wait for.

And more news, thank you, Walter (dating myself), as of February 1, I am doing my own social media work. 

Build & Balance has done a great job of helping me create my platform, set a pace, and teach me what I need to know to continue on my own. So if you see a few hiccups here and there, you’ll understand that it’s me taking over the ropes. Always feel free to send along any suggestions or helpful comments. 

Last week, I started a social media campaign posting the testimonials I have received from readers, which has been great fun. Of course, I’m beginning with my friends, who else? But I will branch out once I’ve honored those fantastic souls who lift me on such a regular basis. If anyone is interested in sending their comments to promote Lessons of a Wayward Yogini, send your feedback to info@sueferrera.com, along with a picture if you are so inclined.

This week sitting quietly at my favorite pond, a twenty-minute walk from our home, studying the wildlife busy with their daily tasks, ideas for a second book began to stream into my consciousness. I’ve been hopeful that I could make my way toward a volume 2 one day. I kept glancing over at the spigot at the far end of the pond, which, when opened, allows the water to make its way to where it needs to go. I felt as if someone or something had turned the equivalent of that spigot inside of me.

The ideas arrived so quickly that I took out my phone to make notes. And that evening, I wrote the first draft of my introduction. If Dennis, my editor, is reading this, he will likely head to the cabinet to find any type of liquor available. 

But not to get ahead of myself, this year is about enjoying the present journey, which is pretty darn special; I just had to share the story about the pond. Another dream down the path, hopefully. 

And Clay, sitting at the pond as these inspirations arrived, I remembered the message you sent me telling me that the second book would come much easier. I loved that you assumed there would be a second book and took comfort from your supportive message. From your thoughts to God’s ears…thank you, friend.

Until next week, wishing you all a great weekend!

As I write this post, I’m on day 4 of a rash that gives poison oak a run for its money, except I got it from our bay leaf tree. I’ve nicknamed the rash Bay Leaf Otis. This photo of my hands is about 80% improved from its worst stage.

Our buddies from Fresno, Ann, Roy, Janet and Lalo were up for the weekend, and we were joined by new friends for us, the Linneys. We had a fabulous time, as usual, spending time at the fire pit, eating some fantastic food, playing dozens of Scrabble games, and of course, working in the yard. 

Our bay leaf tree was damaged in the last storm, so Rick and Lalo cut it back, and then we proceeded to burn it in our pit—in hindsight, a big mistake. The three of us have been itching ever since. I’m now fighting back mad. Hoping today is a turning point! But even if I have a few more days of itching, today did prove to be a pretty sweet day.

One of my favorite markets is Grocery Outlet Bargain Market in Roseville. I’ve been making the trek to Roseville for a few years now as they have such a great variety of organic produce, meat, and poultry, even nice flowers and plants, and I really like their employees. They are always so friendly and helpful. There doesn’t seem to be much of a turnover, which always indicates good management. 

I find the majority of what I need there, and for the savings I enjoy, I’m happy to make a quick trip to another market for anything that I can’t find with them. They have a monthly drawing. If you return the bottom portion of your receipt that shows your savings, with your name and email address and a phone number, you can enter the drawing to receive a gift card in the amount of your savings. 

I’ve been religiously returning my receipts providing the required info, and all along, I’ve been telling Rick, “one day, my receipt will be picked in this drawing.” 

The power of positive thinking never ceases to amaze me! This afternoon my phone rang, and my screen displayed “Grocery Outlet Roseville.” For a split second, I ran through all the reasons they could be calling me, and then I singled out the only possible reason it could be… my receipt had finally been selected in the drawing. 

I came close to screaming “Hello” into the phone as I heard Mitch introducing himself on the phone asking if I was Sue? “YES, I’m Sue!” I’ve been waiting for your call.

I recognized Mitch’s voice as he has helped me a number of times. He likely would not know me by my name, but he will when I return next week to celebrate my $107 worth of free groceries.

Even suffering with Bay Leaf Otis, my day was turning around. I made a trip to the pharmacy; I guess I should have done that a few days ago. As we administered the various remedies, they seemed to be helping. 

At day’s end, I received an invitation from Mercedes Fleming, the DJ from KFOK in Georgetown, to return this Sunday for a second short interview. My day was turning into something pretty special. Looking back over my first FB post about KFOK, I realize I referred to my previous interview as “my first interview,” I guess my way of wishing for this second interview.

I never underestimate the power of positive thought. 

One of my favorite experiences as of late has been receiving posts or texts from friends holding my book in their hands. Sharing that photo feels like a small celebration to me and means a great deal.

And recently, my dear friend Abigail sent my favorite picture to date, of her new baby Arya Jane sleeping ever so peacefully lying next to my book. (I think from the look on her face she really likes the book.) Doesn’t that sound heavenly, reading, dare I say, a good book with your baby sleeping next to you? Those quiet moments with my babies still rank as some of the sweetest times of my life. There’s something about a peaceful slumbering baby that makes whatever you are doing feel fantastic, even if it’s cleaning a toilet. The baby is sleeping, and I’m high cleaning this bathroom. No joke, beats any drug on the market. 

Moving on, I just now saw a comment on FB suggesting Lessons of a Wayward Yogini as a possible book choice for an upcoming book club. My heart fluttered, and my fingers began flying across the keyboard in jubilation. I was already happy to be sitting down to write my blog; this adds to that. If any of my readers are interested in choosing my book for an upcoming book club meeting, please email me at info@sueferrera.com.

On Saturday before last, I attended my first meeting with the Georgetown Rowdy Writers, my final bit of news. I mentioned in my December blog that I met two of the members at the Georgetown Library holiday fair and was invited to join the group. It was great to meet three more members at this meeting. Two hours flew by, which is always a good sign! Each person is at a different stage in their writing. It was wonderful to share ideas and perspectives. I’m so grateful to have found this group. 

I anticipated meeting one particular member, Deborah Garner, at deborahgarner.com as she is quite an accomplished author, and I was told she truly enjoys marketing. As we all chatted about scheduling the next meeting at her house, where she would share her marketing wisdom with us, we realized that we live right across the street from each other. In fairness, it’s a distance with trees and hills between us; I can’t even see her house, only her long steep driveway. But still, how crazy that this woman has all the while been in my own backyard. I anticipate this Saturday when I will be lucky enough to receive a bit of mentoring.

Luckily I can feel my energy returning after the holidays. I woke up a few nights this week thinking about what is next on my to-do list for the book. I welcomed the sleepless hours as it meant my inspiration had returned after a much-needed break. 

I recently came across this lovely quote in a card from our friend Tracey sent back in 2020. I hung it on my manifesting board a few weeks ago.

“Throw your dream into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.”

Anais Nin

I threw my dream into the universe last Halloween. I plan to spend 2022 with open arms receiving whoever and whatever comes my way!

(The EBC before my time!)

During the last few weeks of December, I felt the need for a break. Great timing! Of course, I fought my feelings. It was the holidays… you know, the time where you’re supposed to be happy and energetic getting all those last-minute holiday chores done. Is there a perfect emoji here? 

Instead, I was coming in just under the wire all through the month, Christmas decorations finally completed just before the kids arrived, presents wrapped at the last minute, my meal planning left out a few items. All the way around, I just didn’t seem up to the task. 

I understood myself, so at least there was that. But I still fought to allow my mood to be okay with the part of my psyche that thinks she’s a ring leader. Do this, get that done, must be in the right mood for the holidays, step it up! 

She can be seriously annoying, as most inner dialogue muses are. Maybe that’s our true goal in life, to rise high enough to mute our silly voices and instead replace them with acceptance and praise.

I was tired, mentally and physically. It was time to rest and take stock. I also had an extremely ill friend who weighed heavily on my heart. 

That it was okay to rest after achieving a life-long dream of publishing my book;

That this Christmas could be a bit low key;

That my friends who I never sent holiday wishes to would understand;

That my sweet friend would overcome her health hurdles and return home to her family;

That planning my next steps for the book could wait for 2022.

And I needed a place where I could just dream…

About where, when, and how I would give my book wings in the coming year. 

As I settle back into writing my first 2022 blog post, I can sense that my rest has been productive. I am happy to be writing again. Even given my mood, our holidays did turn out to be lovely. My friend is finally on the mend. And I’m feeling rested, strong, and ready to start planning how to promote my book this new year. 

For starters, I will be the guest at one of my favorite book clubs, The EBC, Eclectic Book Club, on February 12 (see photo above.) These women are funny, intelligent, well-read, and opinionated. I know because for a brief time before I moved to the foothills, I was a part of their group, and I met with them monthly, talking about the books we had read.

I was so honored when they asked me to attend their February meeting, with Lessons of a Wayward Yogini being the featured book. 

But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I will be taking a deep yogi breath as I walk into that book club dinner, much like I had to do when I went into my KFOK interview. 

This book promoting gig requires, above all things, stepping out of my comfort zone. I’ve come to understand that a racing heart from time to time seems to be the cost of admission to get to where my dreams reside.