I am a writer, but until recently I have never given my talent the time and energy that it deserves. But I am writing now – and I’m finally publishing my Wanderer stories too. I guess I had forgotten for a while that I have to write down what’s going on in my life. Otherwise I lose my way, living out here at the edge.
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Back in the early nineties, I had a dream in which a friend of mine, a writer, helped me fix this broken sled that I needed to use. He showed me how to fix the third wheel that was broken and keeping the sled from moving. As soon as I fixed it in my dream, I was able to use it to go where I needed to go.

I understood from this dream that I needed to use all three of my talents. I needed to start writing again in order to make my way through life. True, I was an acid wanderer, a healer too, but I was also a writer. And I needed to write in order to go on with my life.

Soon after this dream, Aspen’s dad gave me my first computer and I began writing. I saw that his act of kindness was Spirit’s way of giving me an opportunity to write again. I began slowly, but soon I couldn’t stop.
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I am a writer. I’ve known this for years. I’ve known this, but I have never tried to support myself with my writing. I have always supported myself as a therapist, or else I have lived outside the law, wandering in the wildlands. I have never attempted to make money off my writings.

I was talking to a friend once about Ariana, about how she went to college but never used her degree. My friend and I agreed that Ariana had become an awesome singer and songwriter. We also saw how she began to be successful just as soon as she decided to focus entirely upon her singing and song writing.

In the midst of our conversation, I realized that we could have been talking about me too. I went to school, as Ariana did, but I’ve never really taken advantage of my PhD in Clinical Psychology. Also, like Ariana, I have a creative side. I love to write, as she loves to sing.

It struck me then that yes; I’m a writer, just as Ariana is a singer. Maybe I also have something unique and creative to share with the world. I know that she does. It’s so easy to see it in her. Sometimes it’s easier to see myself by looking into a mirror.

I decided that I would do the same as she had done. I would devote my energies towards being a writer, and I knew, as she must have known, that my efforts would, as Thoreau once said, “meet with success unexpected in common hours.”

I also remembered what W. H. Murray had once written – that “the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way.”

I throw the dice. . . .