The Four Secrets To Love At Your Best.

Tuesday, I came into my office, logged on, lit a candle, read a random quote in my "Book of Bliss" and began my day. The first thing I saw was an article by  Christina Zippierien: 

8 Steps to Truly Love Yourself- And Why It's the Most Selfless Things You Can Do."

In it, one of my favorite quotes of all time. Zippierien quotes Marianne Williamson:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure."

I'm one of those irritating people that see "signs" in everything. I believe books choose you. I believe people (good, bad, heart-crushing) cross your path for a purpose. I believe that everything is woven intricately into an unfolding multi-petal flower to serenade us home to our truest self, the collective energy of God, a creator, the universe, each other, whatever your name for it. I also believe there are four steps to making our way to being genuinely happy.

1. Letting go:

My life has been a hilarity of beauty and chaos and devastating losses, yet, I truly know that had anything gone differently, even for a second...I would not be who, how, and where I am today... So blessed in my mess.

Yes, I even believe that when my mother left me with a new husband and newborn, and my father placed me in a home with a Baptist family at fourteen in Texas, it was part of a grand scheme to build me, shape me, and garner perspective. 

My best friend, teacher, mentor and soul mate died suddenly when I was just starting to peak in writing, passion and identity wasn't awesome, but guess what? It forced me to go into this strange "over-functioning-hyper-sleeping denial wake-state" where I never actually grieved my father. Yeah, that's not awesome either.

But! I am here now, grieving for the first time thirteen years later. I am not sure I would have been neither able, nor capable of the insights at twenty-four.

 

2. Looking Inward for a New Outlook:

I know I was cocky and insecure and there is no way anything I wrote, did or said would be taken seriously. At least now, maybe my experiences and deep gratitude and perception of life may offer something to someone, at the very least my three children that I would have had if I didn't panic after his death and race to the alter, labor and delivery room and now find myself getting divorced. 

I am no longer cocky, arrogant, or as insecure. I am that weird chick that will tell you how much I care about you out of the blue because we all should. I speak to fast, and write poetry, and a song can lift my soul. I'm obsessed with meditation and mandalas and over-communicating with my kids.

I also let them eat McDonalds or play "SIMS" and eat gluten, occasionally smoke cigarettes, ok more than that. I like rap and Krishna Das. I lust after George Clooney, and Zac Efron, AND Bill Murray. I clearly should maybe care more what the public might think of me, but I learned this in my thirty-seven years:

3. Learning To Be You:

When I tried to care what everyone else thought, I lost me. When I was busy proving I was grown up, I shrunk. Those I thought loved me truly and for real were the first to bolt when the shit hit the fan.

I get judged JUST AS MUCH now for being exactly who I am, as I did when I was in-authentically trying to fit a mold, play the part, hide my running-oxymoron and lemming-like walk within the lines.

Now, people hate, judge, misunderstand me, sure. People think I'm a fake because I care what I look like (for ME) and have the audacity to call myself authentic. But the other thing some people do is.... Appreciate the honesty.

They respond, and reach out to the ugly, gritty, unapologetic truth that comes with living and loving myself. It's hard. I get why so many dudes didn't in my past. It's a lot of work to love me.

But I do. I try every day. I learn better, how to appreciate all I am and all I have because to put that kind of power in anyone else's hands is just silly to me now. I'd be embarrassed for my past self for doing that so often, but then....I wouldn't be here now.

4. Secret of Love is Simple

Here's what I know. When women like Christina Zippierien write a piece on self-love, I am moved. When anyone stands up for you, me and any breathing, heart-beating soul and offers permission to love themselves I am moved.

Learning how to cherish the dark the light, the good and bad, and do it with abandon...I'm inspired, grateful and THAT validates me. Not false praise, or modeling, or men I tried to get to fall in love with me. Nope. Other women and men openly expressing their love for themselves, and the innate right we all have to do so.

In loving oneself, the soil for compassionate growth is rich. The seeds we spread will flutter in the world deeply rooted in love. It's not selfish, nor arrogant, those thoughts are counterintuitive. Love big inwardly and the love that beams out is immeasurable. I'm working on it. Love is easier, feels better and is the pathway to true happiness. If you are brave enough to truly allow it without guilt, worry, fear, or conditions.

Love you, first. 

The rest will fall (im)perfectly into place as it is meant to be.

~~~~~~~~~

"Shimmer with a smile. Life is hard, bloom anyway."

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She's Got Light, Alright. : That Annoying Girl That Signs Off: "Light and Love"- Yup. Her. (Me)

Things that have happened in my life can be described anywhere on the spectrum of "weird." In childhood, teen years, college, and even now as a mother of three I have floated around, bouncing through stages of deep esoteric beliefs, yogic obsession, writing manias, classic immersion in Christianity and now more the simple surrender that "Anything is possible."

In fact, there were a few times in January and February of this year that I literally told my husband and best friends: "If an alien, Jesus, and my deceased grandmother came down and walked into this cafe, I'd honestly NOT be surprised."

I also entertained the idea that I was in full psychosis and would be writing poetry and letters from a psychiatric ward.

Luckily, I've come to realize and accept that the world is full of miracles, strange and beautiful things. I assure you I am not insane. Then there are extremely grounded quiet times where I wished for some "sign" to validate that I'm bumping and fumbling along on the right path.

My best friends are awesome. They laugh with me. One is my "Go-to" old soul who always adds levity and reason. Another, has witnessed it all and believes but grounds me all the time. She recently texted me about a trip we are planning: "No hippie shit, I mean it." 

I won't get into the debates of creation, existence, and the many pools of thought that swirl around such things as what I'm about to show you. I'm just open. I figure if Einstein, Rumi, Thoreau, Anais Nin, Mother Teresa, The Kabbala, the Babylonians, Incas, Native Americans, and countless others bought into the idea of energy, love and the genuine benevolence that exists and can be tapped into either through God, nature, poetry, another person, meditation, prayer, etc....I'm willing to stay open to possibility.

This weekend I worked with a Reiki healer and his insights were uncanny. Seriously. I can't process how he knew so much and to the last details. One of the more "mass-palatible" things he said was that my aura is electric, vibrant indigo/blue. I dare not share too much more here.

He had expressed that "I'm not alone" and I'm bathed in spiritual light. (I joked that THIS must be why past friends and my sister always complained that : "Lulu NEVER gets caught, hurt, and pushes limits yet survives."


Indeed, I've lived with this sort of reckless abandon and trust that I'll survive. I'm not celebrating it, rather, I'm starting to try and understand it psychologically and with deeper reflection. I'm grateful, that much is certain!

Examples:
-Spelunking in Australia
-Jumping on the back of a random Italian (Young Man on his) Motorbike in Boston
- Numerous ocean/riptide accidents
- A violent multiple-flip car accident at sixteen, where I ended up under the dashboard of the passengers seat (I was in the backseat behind the driver.)
- An abusive relationship that put me in the hospital a time or two before I "got even and got gone."
- Let's say the entire late nineties.

Experiences I truly don't regret. I learned and evolved with all of it. Not to mention, between my intuitions, perceptions, and knowledge of underage drinking and/or drug use, my children are screwed trying to get anything by me. So there's that.

With my new and recent knowledge of such things, I would have argued with the Reiki Healer that I carried more of a gold/pale yellow color. I feel it and see it most in meditations. I tend to look to debunk and investigate things I can't understand. I'm learning to do this less, but of course I started to do research.

I was just in the city with a friend taking pictures and noticed green orbs or gold/yellow lights in my shots. Huh? Probably light tricks and shadows. NBD.




We took a picture of ourselves at the beach. Selfies, yep. I noticed HUGE light rays, shining on my face in..(wait for it...) Blue and gold and magenta! I brushed it off as being the sunlight even though it was not behind us. (Picture not included here.) 

So I looked back. Feverishly, zooming in on my iPhone of all my pictures. On the left is a picture of me and a girlfriend on a train platform.

That's when I noticed a recurring theme: Blue rays on me or green orbs! Still not convinced and feeling my chest tighten because I really can't handle any more "Strange stuff" in my fractured life.

Below are a few of the pictures I found (originals, I could hold in my hands and digital more recent ones) because I was convinced it was ink runs or printing errors. The first is INSIDE, where no sunshine could get to us. The second is on a beach when I was five.





I then remembered a video my daughter took of me shoveling snow off our porch in March, this year. I'd posted it to Facebook and only after someone commented that there "was an orb" in the video, did I even KNOW what an orb was. Ha. So,  I researched and apparently light or sun reflection patterns move only in direct correlation with the camera. Below, the green orb is frenetic and flies out of shot, in opposite direction of camera. Interesting. I don't know what it means, but it's pretty cool.

These pictures span over a my entire life, I still intend to look through ALL of them.
Two days ago, I was sitting outside with my husband and took some pictures of a tree in front of our house. I looked at them. BOOM. There was a magenta orb, a smaller green orb and rays.

It's fun. It's fascinating. Maybe it means nothing? Maybe it means everything! I am just grateful, blessed and happy to be me and full of wonder and I intend to keep listening to the whispering hint that there is so much more to learn...at the very least, I have some great stories and even more writing material for my novel.

LOOOOOOOVE and LIII-IIGHT, 
Lulu.

Jane Green: New Insights an Old Interview and Two Summer Book Releases!

Over the years I have read nearly all of New York Bestselling author, Jane Green's sixteen books. The latest paperback "Saving Grace." is out June 9th! She also has a brand new summer treat releasing in hardback on June 23rd.  Links, and more on that below.

All of them made me laugh or cry or want to get down-right lascivious. She has a subtle way of unraveling a character to you; presenting them as if through one lens, only to shake up a story with life's mishaps and fortunes. I remember reading "Jeminia J" and realizing that I actually got butterflies vicariously anticipating the first meeting of the lead character and her crush. Her words conjured up the actual feelings of unrelenting desire.


Similarly, the stories often refold and unfold; changing the shape of the character's human condition. Almost as if she opens a fictional person to you like a reflection of water..a little distorted, and fluid in concept, but always with awareness of oneself. 

That isn't easy. It is almost so human that it requires incredible technical skill to allow for a reader to come to such realization through words on their own without being obvious. That's the magic.

After a phone interview with fellow bloggers from "Chicago Mom's Blog." with Jane Green from 2008, it became incredibly clear that she is candid, unapologetic, yet kind and unpretentious. When asked about "Jeminia J" she snickered that type of laugh that shrugs off the vulnerability to judgement and says:

"I was stuck in Santa Monica and absolutely miserable because I had just started this raging affair with somebody in New York who was from London..."

At the time, I didn't realize how rare and disarming she was. (is).  Hers, is a truly beautiful sense of humor. She is so self-effaced that her brilliance and prolific gift as a novelist feather away for a moment because it feels as if you're talking to a good friend, or one of your sister's cooler, wiser friends. The interview was in August of 08' and she had just released "The Beach House." Below is an excerpt from the original published post:

The idea of non-judgement is a good basis for the several unraveling story lines in "The Beach House." It is a story of several intrinsically valuable people stumbling through their own missteps. It's a story of "coming home" to yourself through interacting with others and being less reactionary. One of the main characters is a native Nantucketer in her sixties. Faced with some financial woes, she decides to rent her house out to vacationers.

All types of emotional relationships are navigated within the walls and property of this house. It almost feels Shakespearean. A mother and her teenage daughter, dealing with divorce, a commitment-phobe and his needy girlfriend, a husband and wife dealing with big secrets and one's aching need to live free of them.

Perhaps it was her articulate descriptions of the Nantucket mindset that allows for all these near-strangers to accept and learn about each other without judgement. I won't give too much away, but it feels like a cozy warm summer night where inhibitions, perceptions and need for approval almost dissipate into the condensation of the ocean. People learn themselves by their tying bond...being human and wanting to improve.

When I asked Jane to explain with whom she most identified in her characters she described her self as "softer than most of them." She went on to say:

"I think that’s probably motherhood. I think motherhood changed me in ways I could have never have anticipated. And one of those ways is no longer being afraid to show vulnerability. So I think there's a little bit of me in all of the characters."

It was quite fascinating to hear that she, being a mother, has to sequester herself at a library (never for more than four hours at a time) to truly "produce pages." It was inspiring to learn how she is able to turn everyday life circumstances into these intricate stories that move people.

She rented a house in Nantucket and ran with this book idea. She saw a woman on the beach and conjured up the multi-layered depth of "Nan." I could hear in her voice that she cherishes motherhood. But also the freedom of writing and letting go of the past. Her sense of peace was palpable in the interview.

 Overall, Jane Green seems incredibly fair and wisely accepting of people and life as it happens (which is usually quite unexpected and messy.) When asked what she thought of bloggers, Green was careful:

"But when you think you're being responsible, you're writing about something you believe in, you're editing it as you go along, you're checking that you haven’t written anything that could be perceived as inflammatory or contemptuous, and it still is. There's only so much you can do. I mean if you put yourself out there, you're going to get feedback and not all of it is going to be good."  

Note: The above quote was from August 7, 2008.             

 Visit Jane Green's site. A new title coming out on June 23 called "Summer Secrets" is sure to be captivating. In fact, sounds vaguely familiar to my broken, and transitioning life. A woman in her thirties discovers the father she never knew is living in Nantucket.

As Green is famous for, I predict the book will be rich with descriptions, relatable characters and that human fallibility that gives all of us permission to fail, get back up, and learn something beautiful from our mistakes or life's challenges.  I can't wait!

She is an amazing, multi-faceted and authentic woman. I couldn't appreciate her, and those qualities more than I do today. I might be a little in love with her now that I have three kids, am trying my arse of to finish this novel, and find myself discovering all that I thought I knew was rubbish. 

Part of learning how to be a decent novelist is being an avid reader. I learn so much from reading women like Jane Green. She has the she-balls, and the gumption to take risks, make characters complex and make us laugh while somehow tying the entire thing back to a positive message. She's lived. 

She's notably talented and one of my absolute favorites to read. Only recently has my knowledge of judgment, failed marriage, and being an aspiring writer (Read: slightly depressed/manic typer, self-critical, non-sleeping, multiple-Venti-coffee-drinking mother holed up in her office any chance she gets.) given me the kind of perspective I wish I had back in '08. We had her brain for an nearly an hour!!! UGH. 

Life is funny. You don't get everything you need when you need it most, but I'm grateful to be here now. Inspired by Jane. I've been told by publishers and writer-friends: "Read read read writers you LOVE and then write write write!" 

And so I do! 

Rumi Says So...A Collection of Love, Love Being, and Love Served

"Poetry is a way of taking life by the throat." - Robert Frost. (Had too. I love him too.)

I have always loved poetry. Since I can remember, it calmed me. So it goes without saying that I have a huge affinity  for legends of prose and philosophy through poems. I have never been pithy and it is indeed a work-in-progress for me. That should not skew one's perception of my absolute respect for it.

So, in the interest of love in it's infinite capacity for yourself, for others, for God, for whatever makes your heart beat, break, plump and blossom. I offer you these picture-quotes featuring Rumi. Some I found, others I put on my original pictures.

Love big. Love all that is, will be, and was. It heals and is limitless. Love , for all it's perceived faults of insanity and calamity, knows no boundaries. It's how you come to understand it. Rumi understood it, lived it, and left a legacy for all to either appreciate or let alone.

Enjoy, Love you! (ha)

Love. Live. Love More and Learn YOU Love YOU to be all that you are meant to! 

Rumi Says So...

A Novel Never to Be Published (Part 3): "Actions Speak Louder Than Words."

Continued from: "A Novel Never to Be Published (Part 2) : Dialogue Tells A Story: "Put a girl in a corner, suffer the girl gone mad."

*** This is pure fiction. A hypothetical couple's therapy session written nearly a decade ago to create a sense of closure where closure could not be found in any other way. *** 

Reading this back, (as the author and with much more years, and life experience) I see a girl so scared, angry, defensive and confused. It's funny,  I see myself and cringe, yet, at the very same instant I want to nurture her. So much projection and transferring here. It's fascinating. Even more fascinating to grow and not recognize any of the characters. 

Life goes on. 

Love remains.

Honesty and recognition of one's self gives permission to "have been" and "to let go." 

I'm grateful I wrote it and in doing so, I gave myself the above. (Not knowing it at the time.)  

Nick: Don’t go.

Dr. Hank: Nick, Do you have something to say?

Both Nick and Safina look to Dr. Hank like children at a teacher. Hope and needing him to guide them; to give them menial directions like “Stand here.” or “Hold hands.”  Something to move the moment away from the pulsating, audible screaming tension that is suffocating the room and both people pretending not to feel all that they are.

Safina: What? WHAT!? 

She yells, now crying completely and totally shocked by her own display of emotions she'd sworn to herself wouldn't surface. 

Safina:  Is this the part where you say: “I never loved you?” Only now you can’t do that, because I have bleed all over the carpet and to throw a paper towel down seems a little lacking?!

Nick shifts his weight. His head tilted slightly, chin down trying to fight the deep need to look away he maintains loose eye contact from under bright redding eyebrows and flushed face. 

Safina: But you saying something…. YOU SAYING something now?  Something to serve your greater purpose. That would seem inappropriate. 

Her satire is ferocious and biting. 

Safina:  Are you backing out now? Now? Don't be so predictable. Try, TRY to be the man you act like...Be accountable for your words your lies, and inactions. Once, just once! Try. 

Nick is furious, either at himself or her, she can't make it out and turns to leave. Just as she does, he opens his mouth to speak again. 

Nick: (to Dr. Hank) I can’t, it’s not right. Its just not the time, it’s not right.

His voice is a low almost whisper, no inflection, no emotion. Stating the circumstances in monotone.

Dr. Hank: Nick. You really want to abandon this?

Safina: Nice word!? Ten points!

She throws her hands in the air, over dramatizing the space between her fingers.  

Dr. Hank: All this work? You have come this far, I can guarantee we wont be in this situation again.

Safina: Me too! 

She screeches with the high-pitched perkiness of a cheerleader.

Nick: Safina. Listen, I want to hug you right now.

He looks down at her feet, unable to deal with her puffy eyes and the redness now elevating the skin between her nose and the top of her lip.

I, I… can’t do this. (He giggles nervously) It’s just not right. I know I keep saying the word (his head shaking side to side, one hand open-palm in the air) I can’t. It’s not right.

Turning her body to Dr. Hank like a cannon in his direction, slow and deliberate.

Safina:You, with all of these stamped names and certifications on the wall, you, with your fuzzy beard and eclectic, pensive observational merit, thought THIS was a good idea? That this would some how be beneficial for your client?

She turns to Nick.

Safina: Demand your money back. 

She starts to cry again, having not yet recovered from the emptiness and heaviness of Nick’s earlier retreat.

Safina: He called me, and his voice, his voice is so methodically capable of sending me.

Her voice cracks and she tries to breathe.

Safina:  He asked if I would do this, be a part of this, say the stuff needed to be said. Walk away from it all. I acted like I could do this, because I do love him. I do want him to be happy I do believe he should have all the things he dreams of. 

She stumbles through the words like walking through aftermath of a car wreck or hurricane.

Safina: I don’t, I don’t know what this was supposed to be, but I did it (more crying, less breathing) I did it for him. I tried to be the “bigger” person. And you can’t have thought this is how it would go? I am gob smacked. I am can't be conscious,  I'm sleeping, no? Please…

She giggles and snorts through the tears, motioning to the chair she first sat in with hopeful and apprehensive expectations. Pieces of her hair falling into her face, her left hip cocked, and her frail arm waving through air erratically.

Safina:  Tell her- that girl, when she wakes up… That this was a miserable, futile idea. 

She leaves. The door doesn’t close behind her.

Dr. Hank looks at Nick, who at this point has moved full coil over his knees, holding his forehead in hand. The tiny cilia-like hairs on his neck are standing at full attention, and his face is a deep red.

Nick: Well? That went well. 

He says half looking up at Dr. Hank, half looking away.

Dr. Hank: She is everything you said she would be, and I think we both know your intentions were pure.

Nick nods. Accepting this.

Dr. Hank: The outcome wasn’t something we could plan… but Nick, you see now, what you have always suspected….. You see that right? The likeness, the categorical issues you share. You have to find confidence in the decisions you have made. THIS, this very instance should give you confidence that you chose the best and most functional path for yourself. Do you see that? There is no fault in non-action. We have talked about this. It's your journey, at your pace.

Nick: I do. I guess I do.

His answer as non-resolute as his look. As is par for the course, he left nothing answered and everything "solved. " It is, ultimately, about survival, and survival trumps emotions in his world. 

So it goes.

The unsaid is unsaid, and the rest will fold away and decompose, flower petals on the ground, burnt by the sun, water-logged by the rain and breaking into organic matter to be absorbed again and leaving no trace of existence. 

It’s over now.

Quand la vie est une tartine de merde: You May Find A Marvelous Lesson in the "Joie de Vivre!" -My Mishaps, Writing Mania, Bad Mandalas and More...

"Oh the wonder that bubbles into my soul." - D.H. Lawrence

In the most lonely, painful and furious nights, I would wake up and realize that I am still here. I can't even begin to count my many blessings and reasons for gratitude. It's overwhelming to lose so much and find everything you needed existed already. True friends, love, resilience, intuition and insights of the heart.  In cracking open, I saw that even my worst is only what I make it. So too, is the possibilities of one's best.

I choose to let lessons of hurtful, judgmental, persecuting and abandon only validate, encourage and inspire my compassion, need for understanding, empathy and patience to love even the meanest people. For no ruinous nature came from someone's genuine contentment or happiness. Not how I understand love, happiness and respect on a human level. 

In four months, I've gotten back into deep meditation. I do it once or twice a day, journaling my intentions, and sending prayers, thoughts or gratitude to whomever is on my mind or in my heart that day.  It has been a remarkable tool. With this, my yoga practice is shaping back up and I'm soon going to start pushing limits (again) ((in a healthy way)) there. 

In three months, I reclaimed my love for writing and have become a contributor for The Huffington Post, I blog daily, and completed hundreds of pages in my "core writing style" for a novel in the making. Poetry (my first literary love) is back in my life. I now know incredible poets, authors, teachers, mentors, publishers...etc. It's surreal. I'm still sad about my life, but  I believe the universe balances these things out. 

In two months, I have over sixty "Picture Quotes" in a project I started called "Lulu Says:Words from Life." Original quotes on original pictures.  It's been so fun.

In less than a month, I've picked up photography and I am nothing special, but it makes me happy, challenges me, and creates records of my children, life, nature, people, places...I'm exploring perspective, symbolism and moments captured in an instant. 

In 2 weeks, Ive fallen in love with the meditative outlet of drawing freehand Mandalas. Now, this....Im terrible with. But my kids always want to do it. I love the quiet work and it is said to reveal one's journey, perspective and slowly expose a pattern of one's true self. It's too fun and calming

Through incredible chaos, pain, transition and turmoil these things have guided me to the notion of " The only way out is through." 


I've lost ideals, perceived concepts, friends, and found greater perspective, meditation, inspirational people,  cheerleaders, ( dare I say) strangers by the throngs encouraging my honesty and attempts to use words originally. The juxtaposition of people loathing me and fan mail? Huh. 

Yet, the more I actually stay open, authentic and aware, I see my ego is useless and I am but a beginner. A new student of life and I take judgment from outside (good or bad) very lightly and without too much attachment. 

Instead, I see things people do for others. I see artist who astound me not just once, but daily or weekly! I see masters of knowledge and beauty with limitless compassion and the only thing I can think is "wow...I've got lots of living and work to do. It humbles beyond any words I try to use.

This new chapter reminds me of yoga. Every time I think I'm getting decent, I see someone or several people so further advanced. I think "Jeeez, where have I been, look at all of them, living this way for ages? Doing these things? Being so mindful." 

I am so inspired to keep improving. Like yoga, those who are genuinely progressing are NOT competitive, but rather supportive and eager to help you, me, anyone achieve their goals, dreams and aspirations. Not because they have some gain, but because they understand, have empathy and perhaps recognize a piece of you in themselves. That is beautiful to me. 


Below are the five Mandalas I have made and a few of my favorite recent photos. The link is to a "LifeHack post with some amazing artistry." It's precisely what I mean about the knowledge that everything and everyone can keep moving forward with a learning mind.

Life hack published some awesome examples of artwork created by people with boundless perspective vs limiting beliefs we place on our lives. Anamorphic Artwork.

Be brave. Be Kind.  Shimmer with a smile. 

Life is hard, bloom anyway!

Energy, Imagination and Memory: ENERGY and how tapping into it can be a secret weapon for writers.

Being "sensitive" or super "perceptive" has always been a problem for me. I recently found a ton of old writing of my own from the early 2000's. Parts of novels and diaries that make me feel a little better. I wrote a lot about my tendency to notice everything, feel everything and over-analyze to the point of near neurosis.  

I have a sneaking suspicion that my doing such analysis was/is to counter argue instincts and natural intuitions that might seem counter to what I THINK is best, or "too big" and "overwhelming." The main thing I have figured out is that energies and sensing them allows for the secret weapon of palpable descriptions, parlaying information from all senses, and tapping into all kinds of untaught aspects of creative writing that people FEEL or consider soul-writing. 

Authors (I believe) used such awareness to have "Soul" in their writing: Sylvia Plath, Sara Teasdale, Hemingway, Thoreau, Whitman, D.H. Lawrence, E.E.Cummings, Henry Miller, Anais Nin, Nabokov, F.Scott Fitzgerald, Maya Angelou, Paulo Coelho, Joanne Harris, Salmon Rushdie, Cheryl Strayed, Erin Morgenstern, Victoria Redel...to name a very few. 

I am nobody, not an expert on writing, or much, really....but I found this excerpt and it's so interesting to read how I describe energy, and it's aid in writing. I'm obviously bias, but I still agree. Maybe more so.

Lulu on Energy, February, 2003:

There is a strange energy that moves around all major beings. I found that energy cuts air. There is something clearly interlaced about it all. It is not something that can be proven like mathematics or molecular make up of a fetal pig in formaldehyde. I think somewhere along the skippy-path of my Tony Robbins long-weekend we covered the electric make up of different living organisms.

I first became a “believer” in the possibilities of energy when I was in the midst of energy spinning silence. It was kind of electrical force that can bounce you off walls and off ceilings like a little red rubber ball. Nothing was being said, just the thoughts of what could be said or done.

Within the massive conference hall the San Francisco Hyatt Regency it appeared in Jumbotron Jumboness. People were getting up and professing their mistakes or their future hopes. It was amazing how energy feeds off of energy. You could feel it in the room; you could breathe it in. All of them eager to come out a new person or as the changed and improved version of their life-ridden self and it was a primal sense for all.

Something would change. It was cheesy and all the things you expect from a non-spontaneous, pre-arranged life-changing experience for thousands of people paying thousands of dollars. 

I decided, when my father handed me the tickets that I would take what I wanted from it, and leave the rest for the middle-aged Desperados. I did. But I changed, shockingly I really did.

I’m far more interested in the power of change in attitude and the movement of both (change and attitude) through air, through words, vapors, and whispers. I have spent half of my life trying to prove it. Not knowing exactly what or how I was trying to debunk the mystery of how we affect each other, I have still been quite persistent. 

What I do know, is that energy effects my writing in a huge way. It sparks something, creates words, situations and feelings that I can't take full credit for. Imagination and my insanely accurate memory. Word. For. Word- type memory.  (Also cause for many arguments and self-loathing after break-ups) Not always cool, but great for trying to be a novelist.   

There are a few ways to sense and harness energy as I (A mere lay-person) understands it:

1.    First off, one must be open to the idea that others are reading between the lines and perceptive to subtlety. Without this ability a person is incapable of participating in such emotional exchanges, or if only half aware you may feel something, but know not it's source or what to do with it. Without openness, encounters will be reduced to noticing nothing, or the obvious and surface realizations of situations at the exact moment its occurring or worse, after the fact. 

2.    This brings me to the second art a person must posses. That is, and very slightly less important than the first necessity, one most have an imagination. You cannot anticipate the idea of something or the direction a certain, directionless moment might go if you cannot imagine it, thereby creating the path to which you can manifest something or simply allow another participating party will take, if they are willing.

3.    The last necessary ability is to follow through. (I have this is spades...err...not always good.)  However small the chance, it is important that the expressions of energy are actually rooted in the action behind the intention. That is the tricky part. This final stake in the concept is the gray line between sweet and sordid, between innocent and destructive.

I'm not talking about politicians having intercourse with strangers in public restrooms. We all, hopefully, have felt something. A new friend just "jives" or you have a compulsive urge to speak to a peer feeling something fun or energetic about your connection. I...would engage, make a joke, or be bluntly honest. Some, or most would just shake it off as weird. 

Perhaps you had a strange sensation to NOT take the escalator, but to go in the elevator...(BING) the doors open and a beautiful person looking specifically made for you is leaning on the railing with a smile. It’s your call. 

I've had insane energetic (movie-screen worthy) encounters with strange and completely unlikely old ladies in England, an awkward but sweet gentleman on a plane who turned out to be a kind and very famous blues player. Once on vacation with out kids, I was drawn to the children playing and met a wonderful mother who gave me some of the best parenting advice, although I have no children. I could go on for hours, but I won't. You're welcome.

Next key component to both recognizing energy and writing great prose that shake, shock, sicken or soothe a reader? Imagination.  
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Pretty funny. 

Energy: recognize, imagine and interact. Or...Don't.

I love living, learning and trusting my instincts.