E.K.

In the late 1980s, I needed to take a break from my life. So I went on a month-long Sabbatical and began volunteering for an organization in the East Village founded by Marianne Williamson called The Manhattan Center for Living.

I found myself surrounded by an amazingly eclectic, loving and extremely dedicated group of individuals who were committed to fighting the-then death sentence of HIV/AIDS. Straight and Gay/All Colors and Religions--and I was with them. They welcomed me. This was what I needed to get away from the highly critical voice in my head that was telling me over and over again that I was not living the life that I was intended to.

And, by the way, I was not making a ton of money, I did not have anything saved. I just used up every hour of comp time, vacation time and sick time--I was determined to clear my head. One way or another.

THE MYSTERIOUS LAND OF ALMOST

I find myself in this place.

I have almost completely quit drinking.

I have almost lost my stomach.

I almost want to take some more acting classes again.

I almost want to buy a guitar and take lessons.

I have almost regained my urge to begin writing my book again.

I have almost created the practice I want.

Almost.

Almost.

The mysterious, magical land of almost. There was a time, when I could not even think of almost. There was a time when the world was colored in such a way that the task(s) at hand was either possible or impossible. I was either competent or not. The world was inviting or hostile. There was no middle ground. And when we (or I) see that there is no middle ground, then it is difficult to imagine the possibility. And the possibility is that we (I) can achieve what we desire.