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Now available on Amazon USA! …..

….. The Buddha & the Bitch.


Going to India to promote the book

Me with Kwan Yin & Kali before trip

I leave the day after tomorrow. I’ll join my co-author Rashma and she and her family are housing and feeding me. Rashma, being the self-defined bitch of our book The Buddha & the Bitch, is da boss and will lead me to bookstores in the New Delhi-Gurgaon area. We need to convince the bookstores to display our book, display our book more prominently, have us do a reading & signing, and more.

I will be posting our adventures in marketing. I am excited about visiting Hay House India and meeting our editor and the marketing guy. We’ll sign some books for their use in marketing. We’ll have pictures taken.

Watch for it. As I’ve been saying “I’ll be famous ….. in India!”

Update: Rashma tells me that Amazon US will have our ebook available soon. Meanwhile, Cincinnati area peeps–you can buy a copy at Women Writing for (a) Change or from the trunk of my car. I will be bringing more copies back in my checked luggage.

The Buddha & The Bitch!

Where did 2017 go? In many directions

I have been AWOL, I’ll admit. But it’s time to return to my blog and share thoughts. I was hit pretty hard by the results of the Presidential Election. My heart was for Hillary. I canvassed, walking miles, talking to people who answered their door, leaving fliers. In the aftermath, I became literally sickened and took to my bed for several days. A workshop led by Mary Pierce Brosmer at Women Writing for (a) Change on Post Election feelings helped. Although reading national news on my smartphone or laptop gave me anxiety, I felt it was vital to stay alert. As one of thousands who showed up for Cincinnati’s Women’s March downtown at Washington Park, I did feel a surge of power and optimism witnessing so many of us feeling the same way. I continue to monitor what’s going on and go to as many rallies and marches as I can. All is not glum, however. I continue to facilitate the Thursday morning class at Women Writing. I write sporadically and am glad to say it is growing as my favorite season Fall arrives. As an aging lesbian, I wonder and worry if I will be in another lover/partner relationship. OKCupid called to me and I’ve had coffee with two interesting women. One I have continued having dinner with and this is welcomed. My next blog post will be about going to a rally vs white supremacy at my alma mater, Miami University of Ohio. The trip to Oxford and the experience brought up memories and perspective. I intend to share this soon. Until then, Phebe

stay close…

anything is possible

Post by @arganesh3.

Source: anything is possible

Hello once more, meditation!

Sunday morning. New resolve. I can, will, and must begin a regular practice of meditation once more. Trust me.

So I set the timer to twenty minutes. Lit a candle, sat on the floor in front of it. I decided: no mantra, no severe zen stance (I’ve done them all). Instead a simple cross-legged position, back to the sofa, old dog lying nearby. Was Winnie meditating in her dog way?

Here are thoughts that arose as I sat for fifteen minutes: flame of the candle–nice, better if I close my eyes? Back to the flame. Airplane flies over my house–damned Green Township pathway! I’ll be flying soon–Paris, hurray! Oops, stop it, Phebe, let the thoughts float by like clouds in the sky…..

In between these concepts, I did have a few moments of No Thought. So when I peeked and the timer told me “three minutes more,” I was disappointed.

Yes, disappointed! For I was just getting started. “Getting started” — an odd concept since there was No Where To Get to in my meditation. I reset the timer for ten more minutes. Ahhhh.

That new Sia song insisted on wafting through my head. Notice, float by. Tears. Surprising. Oh, earlier I had remembered my father, recently dead (whatever this means). “Where are you, Dad?” I inwardly asked. Maybe this is one reason I’d been resisting sitting in meditation. Feeling. Feeling my father’s recent death. Feeling my recovering chest incision from February bypass surgery. But, wait–then I felt tears of joy: my new internist. She has knowledge and caring. Knowledge and Caring. What more can a patient ask for?

Back to the candle and its wavering flame. Wavering. Yes, kind of like the baby meditator I have become after not sitting quietly for some time. Beginner’s mind begins again. And there is nothing wrong with that.