I would like to say I've spent the last two years at
the top of a mountain in a hut, deep within my spiritual core. High in the mist finding that wiseness that belongs to ancient grandmothers throughout time.
But alas I only find myself grayer, my jeans roomier, my mind a bit slower. It's true I've finally finished writing a book that will soon be published and am hard at work on another and I've built a casita in the desert and collected rusted metal from abandoned mines in the Cerbat Mountains and made art with my nearest neighbor out there.
But the serenity and wisdom I associate with the ancient women of the world still eludes me. And I still cannot make a souffle or ride my bike with no hands. I have not achieved the picture of the woman in my childhood books, the one who holds the key to happiness, longevity and the bank accounts.
I'll keep striving. Surely it's all just around the corner.
I'll keep striving. Surely it's all just around the corner.