I'm back from England.

The regression therapy seminar by Dutch therapist and author, Hans TendDam was very exciting, and I enjoyed my few days in a 13th century stone house, a former Benedictine monaster (Charney Manor.)

The trip was arduous with the severe wind storm in Europe--I almost got blown over in the street.  It took my friend and I 5 hours to drive to the retreat center, when it normally would have been no more than 2 hours.

Does a difficult journey increase the value of the goal?

Yesterday morning, I got the direction I needed to start writing this new book on purpose, love, synchronicity, and change (so far sold only to the Japanese publisher.)

It's fun to write, and stimulated me to go to the basement and dig out old diaries and old writing from when I was 15.  Wow, I was still the same person.  At 15 I wrote, "I subscribed to Writer's Digest today.  Perhaps I'll learn something."  I hope so!  A few months later I startedg getting rejection slips for the epigrams I submitted.

I also opened up what appears to be an autobiographical novel, thinly disguised and starting in 1967, two years before my[first] divorce.  I've only read about two pages, but I had to close it up as it was too real.  It's actually seems not badly written, but where was I going with this?  It's about 200 pages, and I honestly have no recollection of writing it.  Who is this woman?