Leonard Nimoy died yesterday. Mr. Spock. “Live long and prosper.” An era of my life just passed along with him. And I feel so tired. Why? I don’t really know. I can’t really complain about anything. I have a house, food, clothes, a fire for warmth, love in my life – all the essentials for survival. So why?

My phone service is being suspended because I can’t pay the bill – again – and I am tired of living this way. I am about to lose another tooth(which hurts like hell)and I fear I am going to need dentures really soon because I can hardly chew anything. That doesn’t make me feel old, but it’s a damn inconvenience. And pain is tiring. And even with all that there is yet to do for this blog and for the iWonderSisters enterprise, I feel purposeless.

I am tired of the struggle of living without “having”. I know Kimm is as well, but I think she rolls with it a lot better than I do. I mean it is what it is, and until something changes for us it will be this. I fret and worry, and sometimes my head is full of only numbers. It’s exhausting. Yeah, I work on it, search myself, meditate and try to let go, but I can get pretty anal on the odd occasion. And today is odd.

The feeling of loss is strong. Not just because of Mr. Spock, but because I feel like I am fighting too hard and still treading water. I know myself, I love myself, and I respect all that I have accomplished in life, but today it isn’t enough. I would love to stick my head in a thick cheesecake and go into a sugar coma. I would love some marijuana, some hard bubbly, something to relax and numb me. I am feeling too much and I feel very vulnerable. I can’t cry and don’t really want to. But I feel low and stuck in it and that I have had enough.

I know that Kimm and I can move mountains and any obstacles that are in front of us. But today I’m not feeling it. However, if the truth be told, tomorrow I know I will feel different. I won’t be so tired and fed up, change will be imminent, and I will feel renewed. It always happens this way. I know myself so well.

The good news is that I live in a fucking paradise that takes my breath away all the time. There may be too much cold in the air, too much snow on the ground to be anything close to mobile, but I am among the Universe’s blessed ones. I adore my BFF and the people in my life that love me so much. I do not feel alone in this. I feel “together” and “with”. I have a beer on this table, and the animals amaze me always. There is fun here too. We laugh long and hard. We joke about the things that trouble us, which lessens their impact and empowers us. And with all the horror haunting the world, what troubles us is insignificant. We have all we need and then-some.

So now I busy myself stoking the fire and making Chloe’s chicken. She’s been barking her head off but it’s way too early to feed her. Busy with the business of the day, which today is very blessed. So, I am already feeling better, more purposeful. But I will miss Leonard Nimoy and that part of my history that fades a bit.




This morning I meditated for the first time in about 2 months. I have never been away from meditation that long before. It wasn’t difficult to get back in the groove and I closed my eyes and allowed. What happened to me has blown my mind.

The Universe spoke to me. You can call it God, Divine Spirit, whatever feels right for you. And it addressed me where I am at my most vulnerable: This feeling that I am not worthy because I am “bad”. It told me that I am a good person, that I deserve all that is abundant in this life because I am worthy, as every other Soul on this earth is worthy. It said that warlords in Africa are worthy, that terrorists are worthy, that all are Its children. The logical conclusion therefore, must be that I am worthy as well.

I wept and felt terribly overwhelmed. I often think such awful things about myself, and It said that I need to let those things go. They do not define me. I am a Soul in a body, I am Divine, Pure, and I am Love. I am all that a Human within a Soul can possibly be. And that I am fulfilling my life’s purpose. I am on the path I am meant to be on.

I felt a weight lifted from me. Indeed I felt weightless. I can do anything I want to, and I deserve to. I can be loved, and I deserve that too. (Even though being loved is much harder than loving. At least that’s what I believe.)

I MUST treat myself with care and tenderness. I MUST appreciate all that I do both creatively and practically. I MUST give to myself, nurture myself, encourage myself. It’s funny. Sometime during the 1970’s I saw a psychic who told me that I need to take myself by the hand and parent myself. Back then I was not able to do that. But now, at 67, I can.

I amaze myself. At this stage of one’s life, most people are giving in to the aging process to the extent that they cease to evolve anymore. Here I am transforming every day, and doing so with excitement and joy. Greater self-awareness and self-acceptance are coming to me. I am indeed as the butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. This is so GREAT!

So, I resolve to meditate every day as I was doing before. I need to go to that place where I am really still and quiet, and let the Universe take me where it will. Undoubtedly I won’t have the kind of session I had this morning every morning. But now that I have had it once, perhaps that means I am more open, more ready to receive.

Alice and Resolve



This is my first post of 2015. I realize now more than ever that my life is in my hands. I am not a resolution maker, but there are some things that must change this year for me to feel I am walking the talk.

Throughout my life I have been a list and schedule writer. Things to do, goals to achieve – all set to a timed schedule. And invariably I accomplished none of it. I would adhere to the schedule for a few days and then one lapse, and the schedule was all over. Essentially this behavior was just setting myself up for failure, which perpetuated an already low self-esteem and the idea that I was really no good.

Now, at 67, and living yet another “second chance” – reinventing myself again – I think I am really beginning to get that my resolve is all that matters. What I achieve is almost neither here nor there. It is how I feel within that will motivate me or not, write The Pet Sitter or not, really learn the Tarot or not. Motivation does not depend on the weather, whether I have enough money, or even I have had a good night’s sleep. Motivation lives inside me despite anything external. It is about feeling excited, impassioned, and full of the life force. It is a knowing that the energy I need is in my hands.

If I have a bad day, or feel unproductive, it does NOT mean that I have given up, or lost my resolve. Living in the present moment tells me that bad days will happen, but that does not define my intention. It is just like the dieter who has one cookie and then feels like she may as well eat the whole box. She literally tells herself she can’t do it. She forgets that tomorrow comes, and with it, new opportunities to do better. Another day to recommit.

For me, holding the promise of 2015 in my hands, is my responsibility to my Self. It is loving the Spirit that is Andie, honoring her, and doing something with all my great ideas. It is fulfillment of my desires, embracing my destiny, and knowing my reason for being here on the human plane. That is all one can ask of Life.

All the things I know about myself that hold me back, no longer play a part in what I create for myself. They are not in this moment. They exist in the past, along with my horrible childhood and the pit of my illness. They no longer define me. I have learned that I am a survivor. Resolve belongs to me. And I am.

Alice and Feeling Expectant



It has been quite a long while since my last post. I wish I could say I have been busy, busy, busy, but I haven’t been any busier than I usually am – which isn’t very. Sure, I have my freelance writing to do, but I really haven’t done as much as I could have done(feeling a tiny bit guilty)and spend a lot of time doing nothing but thinking or just “being”. I suppose there is merit in any activity, and I am not going to punish myself for not producing as much as I could.

Truth is, I feel very much like I am on the verge of something important. Whether it’s a new awareness or insight,or a literary masterpiece, I have no idea. I just feel very expectant, very hopeful, very good about something, though I know not what. It is quite the pleasant feeling, like something good is coming and I KNOW it. It makes me happy.

I don’t feel like I am actively doing anything to make this something happen. I feel the Universe with me, the flow of Intention very strongly, and that the angels are sitting on my shoulder. I feel protected and safe, and guided. It is one of those moments when “happening” is there, waiting in the wings for the right cue. As an actor, I know what that feels like, and I also know that the cue will come from me.

Readiness is everything. I have believed, for a very long time, that things happen when we are ready for them. I came to New Mexico when I was ready for it. I met Kimm when I was ready for her energy. I may have felt a bit blown in the wind, but it was really readiness that was the catalyst. Things can feel random, but readiness makes them come about. It is our readiness for change that creates change.

So I rest in my expectancy, confident that when I am ready “it” will occur. I don’t feel rushed or hurried; I don’t feel like time is my enemy. I feel secure in the events of my life, and that things happen in their own time and for a reason. I don’t think looking for that reason right now is something I must do. The reason will become clear with the happening. All will be revealed. I am not worried.

I am looking forward, alert and listening. Whatever “it” may be, will be received with gratitude.




Since I wrote about resistance I had several days of productivity and wrote a bit on THE PET SITTER every day. But that went on for perhaps 4 or 5 days. Then I stopped. I have had to rethink the resistance argument. I think I may be pregnant.

Creatively speaking, I have felt a little empty for a long while. I sometimes attribute it to laziness or a lack of the psychic energy needed to write. But I think I really feel empty. My brain really feels like this huge, barren cavern, with not even air in it. Just a big nothingness. But what does that really mean for me?

There was a time – a long ago crazy time – when I was inspired all the time and wrote feverishly. But real inspiration is very rare nowadays, or perhaps I am just not seeing it.

I think the truth underneath this empty feeling is that I am in gestation. That does not take the responsibility for writing off me, but it explains this inability to do so. The ideas are percolating inside me and, perhaps, are just not ready to be born. Maybe that’s me making excuses. But I do not believe that this feeling of being empty means that I am empty. I think I am stuck in pregnancy. I think I am really full. My brain is working overtime, though it may feel quite the opposite.

So what am I supposed to do in the meanwhile? How am I supposed to feel? If I accept the verity of the quote above, I MUST accept that I am never empty. That there is only unmanifested full-ness. Fear is the block. Fear about feeling that full-ness. I can only try to be aware all the time of how I feel and welcome those feelings. Truth is: I am terrified. Of baring my soul, exposing my heart. And that’s normal.

Bottom line? What am I actually saying? I feel empty but I’m really not. I am pregnant and scared. And I am in avoidance of feeling my feelings. Even surrounded by all the beauty of my new home, creatively I am stuck. Maybe I really am just not ready. Maybe I don’t want to write THE PET SITTER, though I feel pulled to do it. Maybe it is simply resistance. I only know that I am empty and not aware of the unmanifested full-ness. And I don’t know what I must do to see it. Relax. Stop punishing myself for a lack of productivity. Stop worrying about being 67 and not having time to be patient.

Ease up, Alice.




I have had to think long and hard about why I am not writing THE PET SITTER. Kimm has suggested that perhaps I am not ready, or that the time is not right. I understand that approach to this dilemma, but, if I really search myself, I have to say that I disagree. I think those “reasons” are nothing more than excuses. For ME. I believe that my issue is resistance pure and simple.

I look at the man in the image above and wonder if he is being enclosed upon, or if he is pushing against something that is a part of him. That wall that we hit head-on is resistance. Punching a hole in that wall and crawling through it, finding freedom again, freedom and the limitless possibilities that I know I am, is what I need to do.

I hate getting all cognitive here, but what I need to do is devise a plan whereby I take baby steps towards the goal. Giving myself doable tasks for each day that MAKE me write – even if it is just a sentence – will give me the confidence and courage to do more. But my question to myself remains. Why am I resistant?

I think at this point in my journey, the answer to that question is far less important than devising a strategy to DO more. It really doesn’t matter if my mother hated me and told me I was worthless. I already know the genesis of the blocks I am facing. They are all in the past, and it is time to let that go and move on. If I embrace the present, and live in awareness, the past will no longer matter. And it will no longer hold me back.

Without realizing it, I have been playing the victim, and living the blame game. Yes, I was seriously damaged as a child by parents who didn’t know any better. But it is no longer their fault that I remain stuck in certain areas of my life. I have perpetuated the problem. I have taken up their mantle and continued the abuse. I was too willing a student. No, I don’t blame myself as well. I was too young to know better or to protect myself. But I already understand my history, have made a certain peace with it, and now it is time to put up or shut up.

I have been lucky enough to have been given the tools to do better for myself. I realize that I know what I want. I just don’t do all I can about it. THE PET SITTER may help many people see that transformation is ALWAYS possible. It might give people courage. As it has given me. Now all I need to do is to tap into my courage and take action. Baby steps. Achievable goals. And be ready to fail, to feel pain as the writing brings emotional things up for me.

I know I can do it. I just need to give myself permission to tell the story. There is no one living that I can hurt by the telling of it. And if I am as ready to expose the secret parts of myself as I believe that I am, now IS the time.

Alice and Being Creative



I have been asked many times if I was more creative or a better artist when I was in the hell of the crazies. I have actually done research and written some articles on the subject, and the bottom line for me personally is that, yes, many of history’s best and most prolific creatives were nuts in one way or another. And that includes being addicted to drugs and alcohol.

As for me, I wrote more feverishly and was much more productive when I was living in England and off the fucking wall. My poetry was impassioned, inspired, and full of symbology that I am still deciphering now. I haven’t really written a poem of any note since 1994. I haven’t been moved to either. My writing has become this blog, the iWonderSisterhood blog, and the continued “beginnings” of a book about how animals facilitated my recovery. But no poetry, and nothing written in a mania.

I used to call what I now know is my hypomania, the buzz. During my last few years in the UK I had the buzz all the time. I was completely hypomanic, needed little sleep, and was more creative than I had ever been. Indeed I was more creative than I HAVE ever been. Medications and wellness have overtaken my prolific-ness. I can honestly say it is no longer the same. And if I am really honest, I miss that creative frenzy. I loved having the buzz.

But the truth is, I wouldn’t trade how I feel now for more great poems. Well, sometimes I would, but mostly I would rather just be well and eccentric and not be insane. Living in insanity is painful and exhausting, and I enjoy my life as it is – full of beauty, love, and peace.There is balance in my life now and I treasure it.

I think about the person I was a bit wistfully and wonder what else she would have created if she had been left alone. I have to search for my creativity sometimes now, and back then it was at my beck and call. I have indeed lost something that was very precious to me and I do grieve its loss. But I live in the light now, I see the stars, and when the darkness occasionally inundates me, I wait it out, in the certainty that it will pass. Now trumps then any day.