Running late for my Census job yesterday. Leap into the Saturn, turn the key—the sound of silence from the engine. Not even that grinding cough. Dismay sinks to my gut. No time to brood.  I grab the keys to G’s PT Cruiser and off I go. One of the guaranteed dismays of my life is a car on the blink. Several months ago, I dealt with a problem that drained my new battery flat in two hours.

This time, I put it out of my mind and moved on with my day. I was looking up a Census ID, when I knew, with a feeling of great calm, that the car’s battery was dead because I had left the key in the “ON” position instead of rotating it completely to OFF (and that is a story for another day.)

The fix was easy: jump the battery. Out come the battery cables, up go the hoods of both cars. Red cable then black cable attached to G’s PT Cruiser. Red cable attached to the battery terminal on my car. Then (thanks to You Tube videos) I ground the black cable on the engine block instead of attaching it to the negative battery terminal. Good thing I did that because sparks flew around but my battery was safe. The Saturn starts up and all is right with the world.

The point to the story, and there is a point, is that I achieved a successful outcome free from the two hours of mental frenzy which is my usual behavior when the car goes on the fritz.

I can “change my state” I works best when done early or the jukebox  of mind automatically starts playing that dismal “D3.”


If it is true that a person with multiple personalities can have diabetes in one persona and be free of diabetes in another persona then there are interesting questions about the relationship of the mind and disease.


A moment of silence remembering that cataclysmic morning of September 11.

My god! has 19 years really gone by since that day in 2001?

Compared to the events of that day, my “issues” feel laughably insignificant.

  • What would happen if regard all my days as laughably insignificant?
  • Does insignificance equate to meaningless?
  • If my days are insignificant am I an insignificant blot on the landscape?
  • If my days are insignificant, would I continue to get up in the morning, pay bills, investigate the new gadgets on Amazon?
  • If my days are insignificant, would I make decisions?
  • Does significance require elements of effort, pain, and loss?
  • If my days flow effortlessly and without concern, are they significant?


This afternoon I engaged in an event in which I missed the mark by a mile in terms of desired outcome. BUT it led me down a new path of thought that I will be testing for this week.

Since third grade, I’ve feared people disapproving me; for decades I’ve allowed fear of people’s reactions to turn me away from from goals. So, this afternoon, I was determined muscle my way to a specific result when engaging with a stranger. Instead of achieving the result I wanted, I got a lap full of disapproval. On the one hand, it was a win in that I stood my ground for once and “waded in” instead of my usual cowardly retreat from the field of battle. The disapproval slid off like water from a duck’s back. For that, I award myself a gold star.

However, I failed to achieve my objective. Keeping a blind eye on my objective, I expressed myself in forceful manner which immediately elicited resistance.  Now I am re-thinking what it means to be powerful. It could be a mistake to define power as “the greatest application of force.”

What if power results from focused imagining of the desired outcome before engaging in activity?

What if I actively imagine a desired outcome, then stand aside and allow the desired outcome to work itself out using resources of which I am unaware?

What would have happened if I had taken ten or fifteen minutes to actively imagine the desired outcome, before engaging myself in that event?

Had I not been so blindly determined to achieve my outcome would I have been smarter and taken a breath and taken time to assess the energy in the room and assess the other person’s state of mind?

Funny thing, the interaction that occurred was an exact reflection of myself.


This Labor Day indeed has been laborious, but not in terms of actual labor. The soaring temperature which is setting record highs across California is bringing the usual weekend activity in this home to a grinding halt. The few tasks that are getting done, are completed at a snail’s pace, or abandoned altogether. Both cats are flattened into rugs and comatose: Julio in the shower and Romeo in front of the living room fan.

Last Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, the Census had no cases for me. I retaliated by making myself unavailable for the entire Labor Day Holiday. And that with only a whisper of compunction. Driving around in heat clocking over 106 degrees would have done me in.

In my seventies, I find myself still worrying that “others” will think badly of me. I harbor thoughts of not holding up my end, and of other people thinking me unreliable. The truth is that I am unreliable: I am unreliable to myself, and fake reliability to others.

I feel such unease about doing only what I want to do, because I don’t trust myself to do the right thing. I have already proved I do not “do the right thing” anyway so I may as well stop splitting my energy. I can’t clean up what was done: I can choose my state of consciousness (reference Neville Goddard).

My Labor Day toil consisted of mapping the electrical circuits in this place and labeling the circuits in the junction box. As a result of this exercise, I concluded that the job I thought I could do myself will have to be done by a licensed electrician. Although my research on You Tube informed me about the “principle of the thing,” my attempts to fix the failed circuit in my bedroom would be hazardous. This is a case where spending money on expertise is the least expensive route to restored electricity.