First I was afraid, I was petrified. 

Okay, not really. But it is a good song lyric. You can't help but finish the phrase and sing along. 

The theme of this blog is 365 Days in Aspen. There's an implication in the title suggesting that I'm here for a limited time. The truth is, I don't know what's going to happen. I just knew I could only afford to stay for a year without worrying about survival. It was my gift to myself. 

But that's the thing about falling in love. You don't want to be parted from your beloved. You'll do anything to work it out; to create forever. 

A lot of the people who live here have the same passion. They'll do anything to stay. They're thrilled with a job that might depress them in another location. They'll minimize their space and purchases, paying more for location with proximity or a view that reminds them of why they're here. 

So here I am – 121 days – one third of my adventure and starting to feel the pressure to pick up the pace so I can survive. So I can stay here indefinitely. It's a curious combination of pressure and ease. The perfect space for creative motivation. Enough of a challenge to take some risks and push myself, but not enough to feel desperation. It's like I see the tides rising but I'm not standing on top of my roof screaming for rescue. 

Do I believe as Emerson suggests – that the universe will conspire to help make it happen? If I'm destined to be here, absolutely. If I'm meant to move on, then, well, that's the path I'll end up taking. 

Stay tuned.

This is an excerpt from my children's book, "Sometimes I Wonder," from my Wonderactive Books series, and it's probably my favorite verse in all the books. 

The previous verse, "So we set up our challenges like mountains so high, to test our endurance and reach for the sky," suggests society's obsession with setting and achieving goals. Yet, like my attempt to re-climb Smuggler's mountain the other day was an achievement in and of itself. It didn't matter if I got to the top. It mattered much more, in this case, that I didn't push myself too hard. That I listened to my body. 

And that I was exhilarated as I descended, proud of the accomplishment I did make. 

The image on this page of my book also indicates our disillusionment with what is "high" and what is "low." Like Esher's famous staircase artwork, it can get confusing. 

Why are we so obsessed with achievement? I don't know. And I don't condemn it. It keeps us motivated. It opens us up to change and evolution and growth. 

We just need to remember: It doesn't much matter if we get to the top. What matters much more is what we do when we stop..

If you want to hear me reciting the book at an event called Failure Lab in Atlanta, click below…

In this "attitude of gratitude" society, there's so much pressure to look on the bright side, find things to be happy about, to celebrate even the smallest success. 

These same "philosophers" also proclaim that unhappiness is "all in your head" and that you need to find your joy. Basically, they're "dissing" dissatisfaction.

So here I go with a controversial statement. One I suspect these people will be "dissatisfied" with. 

Dissatisfaction is under-rated. 

Complacency is the enemy. 

As a true logophile (lover of words), I discovered something interesting when I compared the synonyms of the word "Satisfaction" with the antonyms of "Dissatisfaction." (See below). You'd think they would be the same list of words, wouldn't you? 

But they're not. And hence, as Shakespeare would say, lies the rub. 

Let's look at the first synonym to Satisfaction: Achievement. Huh? How can achievement be the same as satisfaction? Isn't one the result of the other? Achievement is a result of a drive, of effort, of stetting a goal and having the determination to complete it. 

Of dis-satisfaction. After all, if you were 100% at ease, in repletion, contentment and serene you wouldn't have the motivation to achieve. 

True innovation requires a certain level of dissatisfaction with how things are. That's what motivates us to try new things, to explore options. 

And for me to "tackle the monster" yesterday. The mountain I had climbed the day before I went to the hospital. The one that put too much pressure on my heart to continue. The one that I've been prohibited from attempting in all these weeks since. I didn't push myself too hard, and I didn't go all the way to the top. 

But ahhh… the Satisfaction!  

People who move to small towns often say they like the sense of community they find there. The "neighbors helping neighbors" vibe. 

Me? I'd always preferred cities. More opportunities to learn and expand your mind. More diversity. Less provincial. 

But what if you could have the best of both worlds? The mind-expansion and creative thinking of a city combined with the unity that comes with a smaller town. Oh, and enough shifting of the population to keep it free from stagnation? 

A community. 

As a writer, "they don't let me out much." I get too distracted to try to write in a public place, so I stay at home alone a lot. It limits the number of people I meet in a day. (If I worked in a bakery, as someone suggested, I'd meet people all day long.)  So yesterday was special. I worked for about 10 hours and went out twice. Once to do a long walk and then to an evening event. 

During the walk I ran into two people I know. One from my Aspen Screenwriters and Playwrights group and one from a party I attended. Such a small but significant joy! It's not that I don't sometimes see people I know here and there, but now, with the off season in full swing, the numbers are fewer. It's like being in a Facebook group with thousands of members versus one with a smaller, more intimate group. 

I expected to see one or two people I knew at the event – a bookstore hosting a writer's event, where writers were reading some of their work. I didn't expect to meet new friends. 

Let's get together and feel alright…

The times they are a changin'.  (I might steal that for a future post when the clocks change in a few weeks.)  For today, I'm reflecting on the shorter days – and the surprise I had when went downstairs (after waking up in the dark), opened the blinds and WOW!  I had no idea! There was no forecast for snow! (I guess I need to re-read yesterday's post about being flexible, since the unpredictable weather here absolutely requires it). 

I love how the term "wake up" has multiple connotations beyond the literal meaning. It's a message to get up off your a** and get something done. To open your mind to see things differently. To prepare for the unexpected. Like snow when there's zero chance or precipitation in the forecast. 

So today I'm going to open my eyes and look for the messages that might be lingering under the surface. 

Some "wake up" songs:

Song by the Vamps…

Fetty Wap

This post is dedicated to my father for his enduring love of Gumby. 

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I talk a lot about change. I admit it – it's one of my guiding principles. (That and always asking "why" something is happening.) In a similar vein, flexibility is a key characteristic for a successful life. 

Some of us (okay, me) feel energized when we set a goal. Plot our destination. Visualize the end game. The challenge occurs when things don't work out like you planned. Factors like other people, the weather and unforseen occurances can derail you (me) and wreak havoc. 

How we handle those obstacles is an important life lesson. It's too bad we don't teach it in school. (Maybe I should add it as a topic for my DrawSuccess 4 Students program. Hmmm…) We need to learn that we simply can't control everything – or everyone. 

In the DrawSuccess program I created a model called "Circles of Control" that looks at the things that are in your control, the things that you can influence (like others – sometimes) and the things out of your control. I'll probably share it in a future post. For now, I'll just say that my experience in Aspen has created a lot of opportunities to learn flexibility. To find new ways to do things, to adjust when my "body" is pointing me in another direction, to learn to "go with the flow" and "blow in the wind." At least a little. 

And while I'm on the topic of flexibility – let's DANCE!

In my Reasons Why book I start with what I call the "Basic Assumptions."  (To read the Basic Assumptions, click here). These are nine Assumptions. Assumption Number Six asserts, "Each Human Has Three Selves or Aspects to His or Her Being."

What this means is that whether termed Id, Ego and Superego; Inner Self, Outer Self and Higher Self; Subconscious, Conscious and Superconscious or Body, Mind Spirit; or Father, a lot of belief systems and scientific disciplines acknowledge that we’re all made up of three Selves. 

Although the theories of Freud, Jung, Murphy, Millman, Pearsall and other experts differ somewhat on the definition of the three selves, many of the principles are the same. 

So when I say I'm talking to my "selves" what I mean is that I talk with my body, my mind and my spirit. 

Yes. I talk with my body. Not to, but with. I ask "her" what she wants. Ask what's going on with her. What I can do to make her happy. (Right now she wants me to finish this blog so we can go outside and "play."   (That's the view from where I sit and write.  Isn't it beautiful?) 

So I'll listen to her for now and will write more later. In the meantime – talk to your "selves." Get to know them. And go out and play!  

The problem with falling in love is that you have to take time to nurture the relationship. Of course it's joyful and fun, but it's also hard work, too.  

The deeper I become attached to this place, the stronger the compulsion to want to stay. Which means that I need to plan for what happens after the "365 Days." 

You see, I have enough money to live here a year without stressing about money, but if I want to stay, I need to find a way to financially sustain myself for years to come. 

I am SO thankful I have the luxury of time; yet I also feel it slipping away. I've almost been here 1/3 of my allotted time. I need so spend some of it pursuing projects that will "pay off" in a more materialistic way. 

So today, in the immortal words of the Isley Brothers – I've got "work to do." Beyond managing several active Facebook groups, I'm working on a few quite diverse writing projects. I just finished a short story that I'm submitting to a contest and looking into turning it into a short film. I'm working on a new collaborative book with some great partners and a rushed publishing deadline. And I want to elevate another project that's been on the back-burner.  

So – let's turn up the tunes and get some work to do!

When I first moved here, I wondered what life would be like in the off-season. Would it feel lonely? Like a ghost town?  (Which I guess is an appropriate term considering it's October. Hmmm).  Most of the Summer people have left. Some of the businesses are closed for a month or two.  

According to the Aspen Chamber of Commerce, the two most populous days of the year are the Fourth of July and New Year's Day. (Interestingly, they know this because of water usage that day.)  So the population spikes in the summer – mostly from "part-time locals" – people who live here for the summer only. They move back to their other homes – to places like Scottsdale or Los Angeles. 

Then those people leave when the air chills and the leaves start to fall, creating a much quieter environment. I'm not sure what the official population is currently in aspen, but it's clear it's a fraction of what it was in summer. These are the full-time locals. Those who came here many years ago, fell in love, and couldn't (wouldn't) leave. Some of them struggle a bit in the off-season, making them, as this post suggests, stronger, heartier, more determined to prove their love. 

And soon it will be winter. The snow is already starting to dust the peaks, heralding the start of the ski season, where the population and demographics will change once again. 

So for now, I'll just enjoy the "Sounds of Silence." 

This is one of the best covers I've ever heard. Ever.

Last week when my friend and I went to Santa Fe, she indulged me in my pursuit of "normalcy." You see, there's no Target or Walmart in Aspen. Nor is there a Big Lots or CVS or TJ Maxx. 

In Atlanta – as well as most other major cities – you are inundated with these chain stores. So much so that you not only take them for granted, you find yourself tired of seeing them on every corner. 

So it was quite a treat to go to Santa Fe and do some shopping at TJ Maxx. And it was funny to see my friend's eyes go big when she saw the prices at Big Lots. (I teased her mercillesly). 

It's interesting how when you travel you appreciate the things that are different, yet you also reminisce romantically about the things you miss. Even Big Lots.