BB Webb as BB Webb!

Exploring the Possibilities

Cancer Stinks! And maybe our thinking is limited. September 29, 2009

My friend has cancer and she’s just not yet jumping in to take care of it. I can’t imagine what’s going on in her mind and heart. She’s so lovely. She’s so dear to me. I’m doing all I know how to do at this point, and I ask for guidance daily about how best to serve her, to help her back to robust health, because her cancer is at a point where she can have that kind of return.

She’s had all manner of friends who have died of cancer….one friend who is about to die, in about 2 months, (of lung cancer, as my mom did), and this friend will be leaving behind a 6 year old little girl. They are telling the little girl next week that her mommy will soon be leaving. I have no children yet can hardly swallow at the thought of having to have such a conversation. How does a 6 year old fathom such a thought? My head becomes numb with the magnitude and import of the task.

I’m a fighter. I’ve fought all my life. I came out of the womb, (early, of course, VERY early), with a mission and knew that there was stuff I needed to do and even in the midst of total confusion over what that might be, I’ve never doubted there was a mission. It’s why I’m here!

HOWEVER……I’m learning, (albiet slooooowly), to not FIGHT so much now as (oooooh, am I really saying this), to listen, and move more slowly.

Oh Lord….I feel friends and colleagues with their jaws dropping to their travertine floors.

I think this cancer nonsense needs not so much a ‘fight’ as a shift in how we do things, a look at the REAL cause behind the ‘cancer.’

I’ll rally around emotional, physical and spiritual well being as I always do. When ‘stuff’ goes wrong, there is a reason. I have all manner of notions about why ‘stuff’ appears to us and was especially prone to a major ‘aha’ in that regard after reading Caroline Myss’ book, Anatomy of the Spirit. And, I don’t believe so much in genes influenced by heredity as much as by energetic imprint, which can be altered. (I’m out on a limb here, I know….).

And for the record, I’ll note it here, (cause I can)….I feel the future of wellness lies in a big…. a BIG way, in the area of energy medicine or energy healing. Look it up. I’m serious as a………..healthy heart. Yes, look it up, it’s real, I’ve experienced the benefits, I’ve seen it serve people with cancer and all manner of dis-eases. Miracles are to me expanded consciousness, of what is possible and ooooh nelly, it’s WAY bigger than our human minds, even the REALLY sharp, savvy minds I’ve had the pleasure, distinct pleasure, to meet. This is bigger than helium smoking pot!

I could go on and on….but I won’t. Though later, you are warned, I will. I have some real ideas and BB theories around this entire area of thought. And how I love expanded thinking and what it can manifest. And no, I have no scientific proof, just have experienced some things, read a lot and met LOTS and LOTS of people who have their own miraculous healing stories. I’ve met healers who just sing a different tune, and I like their song.

In the meantime, Lewis Black DOES make a point! I mean come on….come on….let’s do something new. Or I’m reminded when Mother Teresa was asked if she would march against war – she said NO but I will walk for peace. It’s all in how you look, how you view something. A SHIFT in how you do things. Oooooh, God bless us everyone!

BB Webb


Imagination, Energy and Focus September 28, 2009

I have a dear friend who lives in Maine; I’ve spoken of her before, the lovely and talented Karen Montanaro, wife of my beloved late teacher Tony Montanaro. She is a seeker like myself. Our conversations would drive most anyone mad as we stay up late into the night bug-eyed considering thoughts in the realms of self actualization, possibility, metaphysics, the arts, we tear apart poetic stories, nibble food, drink wine bought only because of the compelling or ‘pretty’ labels, and then after gaffaws of laughter, end up in her studio, listening to music, dancing the night away. It’s magical.

Karen Montanaro

Karen Montanaro

We then sleep exhausted for hours to begin again the next day where she’ll take me to a draining and exhilerating Bikram Yoga class, we shop the streets of Portland drinking expensive coffees, visit dress shops and twirl and plie, kick our feet high to see how we might move in gorgeous dresses with yet no event in mind for ‘it’ to adorn us, (but we’ll find one), and we might end up at Whole Foods in the make-up aisle trying on all variety of eye shadow shades and lipsticks, followed by an overpriced but scrumptious something or other from the store deli. An indulgent ‘treat’ at a nearby boutique dessert store is the only fitting end to a day of play.

I love my trips to Maine and may travel there over Christmas just to wear my fur coat and make a few snow angels after a rousing day in her studio and to rest my mind after we’ve torn apart quantum physics and the origins of tantra, created soup (after she declared having ‘nothing in her kitchen’), (I’m the ‘stone soup’ queen and I LOVE to cook for her), and after having written a dance/theatre piece based on the hilarious and possibly angst ridden mishaps or exhilarating tristes we’ve had relating to men and ‘falling in love’ over the past year. She’s a friend of the rarest kind!

Karen, like Tony, is an artist and moreover, a teacher relentless in her journey to raise children (the world) to a new level of functioning and possibility. Her drive is inspiring (as is her heart). She is a gorgeous dancer with long flowing red hair, her body trained for decades in menus of movement that the rest of us only dream we might accomplish. Her body, agile and light, is precise and fluid, her variety of turns, jumps, twists and swallows, a veritable chapter book of movement recipes, though none written down.

Tony was the master of improvisation and more than anything else, taught us (me) to respond, shift and move in a moment. More importantly, to endeavor to LIVE in the moment. I need him still. Trained at a young age to ‘go with the flow’, it serves me at times when I can feel my own rigidity (fear) set in.

So today, I am reminded of the work she does with her school kids as she travels throughout the planet, opening doors in young minds, lifting hearts and creating smiles of personal possibility with the people who experience her….I am reminded of the importance of coaxing and nurturing our energy reserve, finding ways to daily unleash our imaginations and something which my own business coach, Brian Patrick Cork, harangued me about at our coaching session only last week, the importance of focus.


Powerful all. Powerful.

BB Webb


News Alert….it’s fire season! September 27, 2009

Filed under: Friends,Fun — BB Webb @ 4:30 pm
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There is nothing so fine as a fire!

There is nothing so fine as a fire!

Ooooooooohh….one of my ALL TIME favorite things to do…in life… to sit on my luscious back porch, in the forest, stars up above, with a few key pals, animals strew about, a glass of rich, robust red wine, frothy banter and an autumn FIRE! A big flaming, hot, embers sparking fire. I’ve found no better place in the world to be….at least I’ve not found a better place yet….(though I’m open to discovering more…)!

Ooooooh, Katy barr the door….I might even break out the cigars. Woodsman of course…aromatic, cheap as dirt and fine by me.

I adore autumn and hope you’re enjoying it too!

BB Webb


Dreamer? Romantic?? Me??? September 26, 2009

Photo by Lori Suzanne photography

Photo by Lori Suzanne photography

Well, I am the person who just wrote about the challenge of my constant distractions.

Photo by Sarah Eubanks photography

Photo by Sarah Eubanks photography

Yes, I am, (a dreamer….), I love to create cool stuff, can spend hours and hours in contemplation or writing about all manner of things, (useful or not), concocting adventures for sure, and entertainments, certainly dinner soirees with what I feel are interesting, fun people, imagining ‘neat’ stuff; I get lost in great films, (watch them over and over), I love romance, adore big hearted, smart, manly, open minded, FUN, passionate men, (who have their own interests and share some of mine).

I crumble when I see things of beauty, movies and stupid Hallmark Card commercials. And don’t even think of getting me to watch the public announcements around pets in need. I’m inconsolable for at least a day. I believe in the idea of marriage though am well aware of its challenges and the complex and difficult culture we live in, the impact of our ridiculous media, our interpretations of what ‘love’ ‘should’ be and the limitations of being human, male versus female, and living for 70 plus years, certainly with one partner. That’s another Blog. I don’t share the beliefs of many, but I’ve only lived in my skin, so I’m limited.

And yes, I am often disappointed by moment to moment ‘reality’ yet encouraged daily by the next moment around the bend.

Then today, while doing the interminable edits needed on most any evolving business website, (and FYI, we have a brand, spanking, shiny new one coming in about 2 months),

Photo by Lori Suzanne photography

Photo by Lori Suzanne photography

I was editing our Carl House website and viewed again the lovely work of Steve Schumacher. He is a visiting videographer to Carl House and created a three minute video of a beautiful wedding at Carl House.

Steve used Colbie Caillat’s song ‘Magic’, which frankly, rips me up every damn time I listen to it. It’s so fun to be ‘in love’, despite all the potential ‘work’ involved. I like work that leads to something better….that goes somewhere!

If you need a memory of why you got married perhaps, or the possibility of things to come, watch Steve’s video, it’s full of so much love and hope and well, I think it shares a lovely sentiment. And topped with Colbie Caillat’s sweet song….good Lord, bring a hankie!

When I think about it, nothing much else matters but love….being loving. I mean that. Learning how, there’s the rub. And I mean to ourselves as well. How well do you love on YOU? Take care of YOU?? There is always this and then the next moment to practice. Every day a new opportunity. I like that.

Life on this planet is just too short to not be fulfilled in the ways we all imagine and deserve. So go for it says I….love on, love on!! Oh, and I hope you’ll share your stories of how well you did!

(And yes, all the above photos were taken at the lovely Carl House)!

BB Webb


Our ‘arriving’ and distractions inherent on the path…

I’m amused, distracted really by my own distractions..

Distraction: Origin:
1425–75; late ME (< AF) < L distractiōn- (s. of distractiō) separation. See distract, -ion

Head in Clouds

Head in Clouds

1. the act of distracting.
2. the state of being distracted.
3. mental distress or derangement: That child will drive me to distraction.
4. that which distracts, divides the attention, or prevents concentration: The distractions of the city interfere with my studies.
5. that which amuses, entertains, or diverts; amusement; entertainment: Fishing is his major distraction.
6. division or disorder caused by dissension; tumult.
madness, lunacy, insanity, craziness.

I like especially the synonyms for distraction….lunacy, insanity….madness, craziness. I must be mad! (Please don’t poll my friends). I am clearly pulled by shiny objects, engaging rhetoric, the potential of adventure and attraction and as for many of us, heartache. And certainly anything in the category of ‘bling’!

Though, I’m intrigued… ‘mental distress or derangement’. Mental distress I can relate to….the things which unnecessarily pull me from where I want to focus. To me it’s like brain clutter. I don’t like clutter. Sitting in quietude might be a help for those of us so accustomed to incessant brain noise affecting focus. I clearly covet my ‘alone time’.

Or dancing. Dancing clears my head of clutter. I like getting lost in the movement, the music, the rhythm. Why then do we avoid what might be best for us? Lack of discipline? Are we distracted, by work, by the ‘fires’ inherent in building businesses, our striving, attempts to improve how we do what we do? Perhaps the pain of the other, the lack of ‘arriving’ where we intend, reaching our goals, perhaps the pain of not getting there has not been REAL enough???

I like when a new vision for how to ‘do’ my life arrives. I wonder too if YOU often find yourself arriving in yet another new place, a new perception, a new way of viewing yourself and the world. I suppose the potential of arriving in the NEW is what ultimately helps me through my distractions.

I clearly have more time on my hands than other people do, to ponder such thinking….no kid’s mouths to wipe, my dogs prefer not being bathed regularly, my house is a little dusty, but I don’t mind. I like being distracted with some things though most favorably in directions of greater possibility and new, positive growth.

But again, that’s just me. And today I am counting my innumerable blessings and that I have the time to write about and consider such things, as ‘arriving’ I must go.

BB Webb


I’m in love… September 22, 2009

No, not him….he’s not ready for me yet…..I’m in love with a fish, or rather, mammal. I’m not only in LOVE…..I want to BE a Beluga Whale. Just for a month or so. Well, maybe longer. A summer perhaps.

Beluga whale

There I was, busy with my day, dashing off to work, on the phone, on the computer, chatting here, arranging there, stirring the pot, turning the wheels of industry…(trying in earnest, certainly)….la de da….then as I tidied my desk for another busy day tomorrow, I sped off to Atlanta, through yuk-oid traffic to an industry Food Show, showcasing the newest products and foods. (My new thing to experience for this week). It was at the Atlanta Aquarium which (oops), I’d not been to yet. Well, I’ve been busy.

So, in I went, scores of food stations, people zipping from one to another like droning ants, nothing new really, (though that Thai wrap was yummy). I realized for SURE then that I eat for sustenance most of the time and for the aesthetic experience when the occasion permits. During the week, it’s fuel, THOUGH, out at night with a friend or at a marketing or networking occasion with my chef preparing something scrumptious, that’s another matter. I adore trying new foods, new restaurants, traveling the world to experience new ‘fuel’ prepared beautifully, ‘tastefully’. Yes! I like the aesthetics of beautiful, tasty, healthy food.

(A story for another time…a favorite Colorado fine dining experience atop a veeeery high mountain that we had to get to on two gondolas, in a blizzard which ended in snow angels, well, after a good portion of ‘fine’ wine)!! Priceless.

So, not really wanting any more nibbles of the tables and tables of food…not terribly interesting to me really and I hate to eat standing up trying to balance my purse, a glass of wine, (in a plastic cup, urgh)….and the jazz band was doing, (I swear), a Thelonius Monk rendition of some Norah Jones thingy that had my ears and eyebrows looking like Mr. Spock……I decided to head to the big window with the rocks on the ‘ocean’ floor.

Then, in a milli-second, my life changed… in the distance I saw him. Mr. Beluga. (This is how quickly ‘love’ can take hold. A glance across the room that has a particular vibe….boom, you know you’re in for something…who cares what….something)! He was hanging upside down floating with complete grace and contentment in the salty feaux sea. And I don’t mean, belly up, I mean tail on top, head toward the sea floor, as if someone roped him to a tree to dangle like baloney, set to cure. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him! A huge mass of fishiness, weighing around 2500 pounds, his little fins kept him perfectly upside down while he calmly flapped away enjoying his inversion experience.

I was sooooo jealous. My emotion surprised me. Here I was, having raced away from my home turf for my ‘new’ Food Show experience, bored silly with stupid old, same ole-same ole stuff that I’ve tasted a ca-zillion times. Same old linens and people and displays. (Clearly I had a bit of a grump going on). And I know why. There he was, making me never more clear…..

I don’t play enough!!!!!!!!

    I’m busy building empires and there is not enough PLAY involved. I was BORN to play. My formidable career was acting….we play, actors PLAY. We make stuff up, run around, dance, sing, flirt, create cool stuff, go out and celebrate after a formidable performance….for crying out loud, I learned to tumble, cartwheel, walk on my hands and juggle fire….why??? because it seemed fun….and it WAS! I LOVE TO PLAY!!

And here he was, doing what I needed to do. As the hundreds of people munched and sipped bad wine from their plastic cups, I felt myself enter the aquarium with my mind. There I was, naked as a Beluga, upside down, doing the ‘inversion’ thing, just hanging with my pal….Petra, I think was his name. And just as I imagined myself having balancing fins, SWOOOOOOP in swam Mama Beluga from the right, Natasha, the show girl….her huge mass helped me see how far away Petra was in the distance. Good Gawd….she’s enormous, but agile and svelte as Ester Williams in her synchronized Hollywood water shows.

And she was flirting with me, her beady little whale eye looking right into mine. She read me. She knew me. We were kin! She’d twist and turn like a soft tootsie roll in a five year old’s hand, back and forth, breaking the water up top then sliding down like oil in a pan toward me almost brushing the side of the glass where I stood hostage, unable to join my playmates, the REAL new experience that I needed for the week.

Marianne, the aquarium ‘concierge’ (I guess), told me everything about my new pals. I was hungry for it all. Where were they from, did they always live in captivity, what do they eat, does she flirt with EVERYONE?? And each time she’d swoop by I’d smile as big as a Kansas sky and wave like I was six years old, my hand so high, supported by the other to stretch it further so the teacher might see it to ‘pick me, pick me!’.

‘Hi Natasha, hey buddy….remember me….it’s me, it’s BB….remember?’ Remember?

I’m not sure why those words fell from my mouth. But somewhere your soul knows….when you recognize that person, that 2000 pound Beluga across the aquarium, you know, you know, you’ve been friends, comrades, lovers, sisters, in perhaps another lifetime, another stratisphere, another species.

And suddenly, Natasha stopped in front of me, a dead stop with her little bitty fins working overtime, ignoring all the crabcake and spanikopita eaters beside me; she just stopped and pierced me with her polka dot, tiny eyeball. And just as quickly she swooned backwards in another Ester Williams move, graceful, agile, nimble, easy as slicing cheesecake….she had the world at her fin tips. I wanted to be her. Comfortable in her body, her image, her ability to enjoy. What a model of literally ‘going with the flow’.

Stats on my new friends:
A Dancing Beluga Whale:
Type: Mammal
Diet: Carnivore (though I’m sure she’d spare me….as she’d know the value of a great dance partner)
Average lifespan in the wild: 35 to 50 years
Size: 13 to 20 ft (4 to 6.1 m)
Weight: 2,000 to 3,000 pounds (907 to 1,361 kilograms)
Group name: Pod (I’d be a Pod-mate).
Protection status: Threatened 😦
Size relative to a bus:

And on a final underwater note…did you know? Unlike most other whales, the Beluga has a flexible neck that enables it to turn its head in all directions. And Natasha was, she was, making an angled turn in the aquarium while her pretty neck turned slowly, coquettishly to flirt and play with the red headed lady with the knit brow who wondered,

‘how can I get IN THAT AQUARIUM without Marianne the aquarium concierge seeing me’?

Somehow caviar will never be the same.

BB Webb


Health Insurance……Reform…..???….Huh???

BB Webb


When is loving just not so… September 21, 2009

I have something I’m wrangling with today…the notion of how to really love well. I was thinking today about how mothers or fathers, husbands, wives, in an effort to ‘take care of’ each other, children, often love ‘too well’ or really not well at all when they steal the opportunity for another to find their way.


I’m sometimes summed up, mostly by male people, as, ‘you don’t need anyone, you’re independent’. Well yes, I am independent, but not needing anyone…certainly not. I’m human….to the core and marrow. I know how to take care of myself, and, when I’m being a savvy leader, provide for myself and take care of my debts, but not needing anyone, hardly. Ask my friends. They know. Good God they know.

Though here is where I tilt my head with quandary. I like the idea of interdependence. We need one another to thrive, to become further who we are. We need others to help reflect who we are back to ourselves. I know this. I have good reflectors in my life at this point in time, that was not always so.

However, I see parents, and spouses, ‘caretaking’ and that is different. Only the needy, the ones disabled, the sick, babies, small children, animals we adopt, need caretaking. A wife who is provided for may never learn if she married young, how to provide and discover her abilities for herself. And what a sad thing that is. And as she grows older, not feeling at home in her skin, it is her spouse she will reflect anger toward, not even knowing why. Please consider my intent with this thought and example…

I am aware of the keen difference between ‘caretaking’ and ‘supporting’ another. I choose to be supportive though choose not to care-take those whose right it is to learn how to care for themselves. That to me is more loving. Co-dependence serves no one.

I’d fuuuuume when my mother would dive into the brownie batter just as I was struggling and near to getting the lumps out. She would take over and I’d miss my chance to find out how good I could be, how able I was.



We do this with our children, don’t we! In an effort to move things along, get the job done, hurry along…we mess with their process of ‘becoming’. A good teacher is a rare person to find. I’ve had only a few REALLY good teachers…masters, despite their perfect flaws, which they all had. (And that was good for me to experience as well. Their humanity made the teachings more relevant).

It feels good to earn our stripes, to test our meddle, to become exhausted with our efforts to do well. It is essential for growth.

I am earning and have earned many stripes and I imagine will until I’m gray headed, (though you’ll never know I am as red will be my badge of courage).

There is something to be said for the struggle. There is no adventure without struggle. And, I must remind myself that I am all for adventure. So, tally ho indeed.

I’ve quoted, (paraphrased) Mr. Jung before, ‘love is the process of GENTLY guiding someone into themselves.’ I relish the ‘gently’. That is loving. There is enough harshness in our world. Gently is good.

Love to you and those you love and peace to my tormenters, always. You make me more of who I am becoming and I thank you for that…I deeply thank you for that.

BB Webb


So Tell Me, What Was It Like For You?

I am considering that I might need to embrace rather than scorn the sleep that won’t come to me. Perhaps I’m supposed to lie awake to hear something which I can’t hear in my sleep. Maybe I’m like a new mother, having just given birth or about to give birth to something new and spectacular in my life….with sleep being temporarily a distant memory.

The storms in Atlanta have been dogged and meaningful of late. I adore weather, all kinds. I miss the smell of snow in the air and the first flakes which always, ALWAYS to me held mystery and delight. They beckoned free days from school as a kid, a lightness of spirit as an adult and certainly awesome ski runs and high flying powder on the slopes. I don’t miss the shoveling in Boston or the interminable winters I’ve weathered in Maine, though I’ve chased a snowstorm or two in my day, to be a part of the mystery, the grandeur of how heavy, white precipitation can in the right setting create a fantasy world fragrant with possibility and certainly fun! And I’m all for that.

So, sleep deprived again, this time from the worried pacing of my dogs and alarmed ‘meows’ from the felines in my house over the rattling of thunder and bright beacons of flashing light through the tall Wuthering Heights-like windows of my home. My animals become frightened with storming. ddc.JPGI become quiet and soak it in like elixir. I love the rumbling that shakes and rattles each of my cells. I like the stirring that I feel, the movement, as though the storm is bringing in new energy, new thought, new consideration. I like movement. I like change…positive change.

With this, I am here in my safe bed just outside of Atlanta, thinking of the many places I’ve visited throughout the world. I recall adding pence to the heater unit in London to keep warm in January. I remember the very small flat I stayed in overnight in Paris where I took a photo of myself in the mirror to show I was there, or the photo of my shadow on the beach in Lanai, a quiet, small Hawaiian island and former pineapple plantation, (before Rupert Murdock overtook it). I’ve danced for hours on end with Dutch people in Normandy, eaten goat head with executives in Monterrey, Mexico and tried mightily to swallow fatty duck in Hong Kong offered to me by my gracious host. I’ve camped in the Wyoming Mountains, swam topless in the Italian surf, slept on floors, buses and small planes which I wasn’t sure were going to make it to the ground. I’ve done most of this as a solo adventurer.

And though I prefer at this point in my life to share a cab, train seat or car with a fellow traveller, I’m glad to have seen the world through my eyes. And though there is more to see, the view inside my head, or heart, is more full than any trip ’round the world might allow.

And so, with all the people and customs, differences and opinions, I still hold my head at a tilt, much as my dog Ernie does when he hears a strange noise, ‘what’s with all the intolerance’ I wonder. Why can’t we all just get along? Why can’t two opinions sit on the same plate, or my friend believe one thing and me another? Can’t I experience one thing and he another and it be okay? I didn’t see green and he didn’t see red. So? So what?

‘So tell me,’ I long to ask, ‘What was it like for you?’ And rather than debate why my vision is right or her sensing impaired, how enthralled I might be with,

‘What BB dear did you sense, feel, see, hear, fathom when you crossed the river, when you tasted the soup, when that stranger admonished you, the kind woman put her arm around you, that man told you he loved you….tell me, I want to know YOUR experience.’

There is more to share….my heart is full, my mind sodden with the falling rain and the sleep that won’t come.

BB Webb


Of Mice and Men September 19, 2009

John Steinbeck continues to be a favorite author of mine. I wasn’t much of a reader as a kid though had a reading list I was required to complete before attending my new school in 9th grade. That was a great summer. One of my first books from the list was Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men. I loved it. Years later in college, studying theatre, I was cast in the theatrical version of the book. (More about Of Mice and Men).

I felt the complexity of the love between slow witted Lennie and his guardian, George. I’m all for the underdog and my heart related to the angst and complexity of choices presented to Lennie’s champion, George.

Lennie & the river

Lennie & the river

I spend a lot of my weekend time at the computer tip tapping away at one project or another, it’s my ‘down time’. With movies muted in the background, I click on the volume at only the best parts. Steinbeck’s 1939 version of Of Mice and Men was on today as torrents of rain fell outside the tall A-frame windows of my snug, hideaway house.

This, Steinbeck’s first novel put to the screen by Lewis Milestone, (to be followed by many others, Grapes of Wrath, another favorite, the following year), I happened upon the final seen where Burgess Meredith, (playing George) is about to seal Lennie’s fate, with compassion and grace, (Lennie played beautifully by Lon Chaney, Jr.).

We are all presented with decisions within our lives which give us pause. I am this week considering how to allow the slings and arrows of my own judgements and interpretations of things, (particularly to myself), and certainly those of others toward me, just pass through to hit the wall behind me.

With that, I am considering how I might take the variety of issues I wrangle with and create three columns, as my friend 2Lu suggests. What do I want, what am I willing to accept with that issue, and what is non-negotiable. NOTHING is black and white, not even black, nor white….our world’s are influenced by our upbringing, our environment our DNA and energetic imprint. This I feel is true.

How to keep ‘things’ less personal though to remain engaged, when we choose and, full of heart.

Life is a negotiation. And, I continue to believe, a celebration with the right mindset.

Some days I have that mindset and well… other times a good movie fills the bill.

A classic ending.

BB Webb