Summer continues unrelentingly punishing the centuries of human carelessness with continued malevolent climactic conditions. If I were an ecofeminist, I would blame our militaristic, heavy-handed, profit-oriented history of robbing the environment of the tools it needs to survive.

Hmmm......could I do that? Well, yes, in a way. Bears are appearing on golf courses, deer are everywhere looking for a place to live and groundhogs sprout up even around apartment buildings.

And we go on, shopping(well, some of us) and environmentally looting; what is next?I hear people complaining about the weather, the humidity, the absolute torpor of it all. I whine, too; less than in prior life. However, I know I must take some of the blame. Two legged animals can be most cruel.

While meditating and just relaxing in Van Vleck Gardens, I noticed PSE&G (area utility company) digging up mounds of grass in a large area. I was concerned for the animal and bird population. What could I do? I meditated and let the thought leave.

Now, in an unbearably humid day I am defrosting the ancient mini fridge (or excuse for one) that is provided in the too-high-rent studio apartment where I reside in an area that a lot of people want. I would give up the apartment in a moment if I could find an alternative that suits me and that I could more afford. Not yet.

As for the job that will open my life financially, it has not manifested. It is time to create this job; however, it is difficult. Next step, calling holistic centers and making interest meetings or phone calls if it is in another state or area. Then my cell phone bill will rise. And the circle continues.

How to break that circle? Walk in another direction. And I will. In the meantime, back to the refrigerator, grading research papers, and doing what I need to keep self motivation at a peak.

Your-time-of-day has stopped.

I was not ready to die; I defeated cancer in 2000. Who was my computer to tell me to get ready for the next energy field? The inability of my computer to keep time and day consistent should have had nothing to do with me, or should it?

The above Hitchcockian-message appeared on the black computer screen of my relatively new Dell Inspirion 1525 on June 28, 10:30 pm. I just came back from a too-good Italian dinner with friends who always make me laugh.

The Rigitoni Leoni settled in my stomach and I began the first of several long conversations with Dell. As usual, I was transferred from one outsourced technician to another, culminating in the bleatingly earnest promise of a supervisor to have a technician with a new motherboard for my computer at my apartment door, today, July 1.

All was fairly solved; not true! Dell Computer lies. Do not buy Dell products. I am furious at Dell since my inconvenience means nothing to them. My files are on my new computer and I need them. It is time for a new summer session, my academic files are on that computer,and besides, the Internet is faster.

Damn Dell! Today is almost over and I received a voice message that my order has been delayed for at least one to two weeks. My holistic, calm persona could not last and I gave a Dell representative a fairly Joycean litany, or maybe Carlin-like might be more accurate. (And only yesterday in the college research class that I am teaching we were discussing the all too commonplace use of curse words and their etymology. I have smart students.)

And I am truly annoyed. I am using my old Inspiron which is hobbling along. However, I trust it will last and redeem itself; what does it matter that in order to get an s or a b letter to appear, I must forcefully smash the key.

Okay, I will meditate. I will return to my holistic persona. Maybe.

Peace, dudes and dudettes.

Lately I have been writing. It has been years since I wrote from the heart and fully engaged in the creative process. I have written and published in area press, online ,and in cancer and wellness related journals. Not to mention the papers and graduate thesis required to earn the Masters in Holistic Health.

I do not know what I will do exactly with the deep writing. Perhaps try for a book or series of articles. It will take time; I have much material. At times, it became difficult to write and to live entirely truthfully. Selectively, I revealed my life; I still think so often of Emily Dickinson and how her work selectively revealed moments in each numbered poem (Time for a reread!)

Yet, in the creative process, what role does truth play? When we write or draw or create in any form, what are the effects? Does writing lead to wellness? When my life revolved around cancer--chemotherapy, radiation, living with an incredibly supportive other, movies, city walks, museums, art, more chemotherapy, radiation, complete evenings spent in the bathroom, writing became my therapy of a very mixed emotional time. Writing and Buddhist chanting became my bridge between this world and mortality. I would experience, write, chant. That was eight years ago and now, it is memory, except for the words I wrote, medical charts, doctor visits, and that feeling in the heart chakra when I hear the word--cancer.

I hear it often. I am an advocate with C3 Coalition, peer counselor for Colorectal Cancer Alliance, and trained holistically as a Cancer Guide, sort of a holistic resource, cancer mentor for anyone experiencing cancer. And still, it is a subject of intense interest and passion. I experienced cancer; it did not kill me, it did not define me, it did provide endless change. Sometimes, I am even appreciative.

But, does it take such intense life experience to become creative? What if life is pleasant, easy, financially secure, "normal," perhaps; if there is a norm at all? Where does creativity go?

Time to feed the cat; my orange friend. He knows all answers, I believe.

It is strange to say that in such a financially devastating time, my spirit runs fairly free? Could it be that our physical world does not correlate directly with the spirit world? Or that, perhaps, one can still be fairly happy in the middle of economic difficulty.

I am not Melville's Bartleby who chooses not to find a fruitful means of employ; nor am I a forever dreamer who basks in the glittery promise of a better tomorrow. (Could I not be a presidential speech writer?) However, I am hopeful, surprisingly not frustrated, and somewhat confident that I can find a way out of a financial morass while concurrently finding employment doing what I want to do.

What I want to do and what I must do to survive might be two different things or surprisingly, they might be the same. I have taught English, journalism, women's studies and more on the college level all my working years, practically. I am a good teacher; however, I have been at times an arrogant, strident, frustrated, robo-teacher, even while maintaining the visage of good prof.

Lately, I have been an excellent teacher, fairly surprising myself at moments of incredible teaching enjoyment--that rush I have seen lately only in film or heard from others. Probably this rush is coming since I am trying to leave teaching and pursue holistic work and start my own practice.

I am trained for this holistic work; I desire it, I am passionate about energy medicine, Reiki, integrative medicine, watching Eastern and Western medicine work together to create wellness (the persons involved help, too). I love chanting, Qi Gong, meditation, healing therapies. They have changed me; the persons who taught me and life experiences have helped, too. I want to take my teachings and continually evolving practice everywhere. How?

This quest will become all pervasive until the answer reveals. In the meantime, I will continue writing, teaching, practicing, and seeking.