Where do you write lately? In the office, across from your bedroom, next to the studio overlooking the water. Where is the garden? Do you grow herbs, what kind and how are the animals? The sunshine’s kiss on your cheek? Do you help others? I bet you light a fire in your cabin during the winter, and spend your springs in the city. Do you stroll your dusty driveway, a wildflower outlined path, to try out the town and pick up smiles you've come to know so intimately? You don't think about smoking anymore, but you do enjoy a glass of wine every now and then. The little birds cheep and the leaves blow on limbs and you have grown fond of children, though you haven't any of your own (yet).

If my heart does not skip or stop at the thought, that is how I know. It is how I have always known.

Remember the work. The challenging and vigorous confrontation with yourself. Stare your life in the face with every waking moment. This is a body experience. Make it yours and make it count. And cry, cry, cry, cry! Feel it all and feel it slow, let it build like a pyramid, watch it stand the test of time. Do what you love and follow your gut — please follow your gut — and the rest will come.