It's been a wonderful day. Life is good.

"The check" was refunded to us yesterday. I deposited it this morning. If feel like layers of bad things are peeling away from this present situation. There is light.

I marched in the "The World STILL Says NO to WAR" event today. The purpose was to protest the first anniversary of the Iraq invasion. It started out with a beautiful, moving, multi-faith memorial at The First Baptist Church on First Hill. Then we marched down Madison Street, past police in riot gear, to the waterfront. We then turned right at Alaskan Way and gathered at Pier 62/63. (The guest speaker was Ed Asner.) It was a great day for a walk.

There was a letter from The Sun magazine in the mail today. They're publishing my "Second Chances" piece, space permitting. I am becoming a published author!

My 2004 tea/tisane log:

1. yerba maté, 1 January
2. genmaicha, 9 January
3. South African Rooibos (with honey crystals), 10 January
4. chamomile lemon herb, 15 January
5. Northwest blackberry, 17-19 January
6. lime herbal teasan, 6 February
7. aged Earl Grey, 17 February
8. black cherry tea (organic Ceylon tea with black cherry flavor), 5 March
9. black tea blend (organic), iced, 17 March
10. oolong, 19 March (lunch at Teapot)

I sent an email to Pet a few minutes ago. A while back, she suggested that I try meditation. This afternoon, my therapist had the same idea. He's suggesting meditation for me every day, for about five to ten minutes. If what happened to me this afternoon was meditation, I will have no trouble making it a routine.

This is how I described the experience to Pet:

"I sat on the edge of a wooden chair in his office, with my back slightly curved, my knees lower than my lap, and my eyes focused on something 6 to 8 feet away from me. (I chose an electrical outlet on the wall.) He told me to concentrate on wherever I felt my breathing. (For me, it was my diaphragm.)

The wind kicked up and blew tree branches against the window. Suddenly, I could no longer see the outlet. The wind had picked me up, carried me over the building, and I was over a large green field. I could feel my breathing, but all I could see was sky and grass. It was absolute peace. I don't know if it was the counselor or me who brought me back, but the outlet returned and the chair was beneath me."

I don't know if that's what is considered "meditation." (Pet will tell me.) I loved the feeling, whatever it was.

I have a fear of heights. Is it strange that I would find peace floating in midair?

It's been four weeks, today. Five Thursdays. One month. The memory is fading. If it were over, that would be a good thing. It isn't over, and I must not forget - not yet.

This entry wouldn't have made any sense fifty years ago, and would have probably seemed far-fetched thirty years ago. For the past four weeks, I've kept our home telephone transferred to our cell phone during office hours. The Caller ID on our home phone works differently than the Caller ID on the cell phone. Callers displayed as "UNIDENTIFIED" on our home phone show up as phone numbers on the cell phone. If it's unidentified at home, or an 800 number or an area code we don't recognize on the cell phone, we don't answer. It's very likely a telemarketer. If it should turn our to be a legitimate caller, they can leave us a voice mail.

I decided to investigate those unrecognized phone numbers on our cell phone. I typed each number into Google. (If you're concerned about your privacy, this is a feature you should be aware of.) Most of the numbers were not found. (I'm not surprised.) One phone number lead me to the web site of a marketing firm in Arizona. This is the 21st century.

My 2004 tea/tisane log:

1. yerba maté, 1 January
2. genmaicha, 9 January
3. South African Rooibos (with honey crystals), 10 January
4. chamomile lemon herb, 15 January
5. Northwest blackberry, 17-19 January
6. lime herbal teasan, 6 February
7. aged Earl Grey, 17 February
8. black cherry tea (organic Ceylon tea with black cherry flavor), 5 March
9. black tea blend (organic), iced, 17 March

I picked up the sixth Sandman collection, Fables & Reflections, from the library today.

I worry that I'm growing complacent, that I'm getting too used to this present situation.

I worry that I'm not scared enough.

"Write it out of you," wrote Pet. That was terrific advice.

Friday evening, I started writing. I could no longer hold back the inspiration. I wrote about the aftermath of the event, rather than the event itself. I kept writing into the night, and picked it up again on Saturday morning. It was becoming one of my best pieces. Phillip and I went to my parents' house on Saturday afternoon. Then my dad had to be taken to the hospital. After the hospital, I came home and continued writing. I finished at 12:30 this morning.

Today was Writers' Group. My written piece went over well, and my story got a lot of support.

Life throws a lot of things at me, and just keeps going on.