November. Leaves are changing color from vibrant green to muted ochre, cinnamon, ruby, and pumpkin. Falling on the ground to carpet the street and sidewalks. As I walk I remind myself to pause, reflect, and take the time to connect with my heart, with my inner child, and scuffle through that padded carpet, thrilling to the crisp, crackly crunch.

The season is changing, getting colder, more still, more quiet. November is a time of thanksgiving. Of gratitude. I love this picture because it encompasses so many of the feelings of this month, and the way I want to live—embraced, supported, nourished, inspired. Those are what I look forward to every day from my friends and family.

I’m working on a new novel about a young woman who has to heal the heart of the planet. And at the bottom of the ocean. Not an easy task, right? My response to the initial idea was You’ve got to be kidding! I don’t know anything about the ocean. As the idea grew other topics came on board, more things I knew very little about—sacred geometry, Hebrew traditions, astronomy, ancient prophecies. And I’m really good at procrastination. I have a PhD in resistance. But good ideas don’t go away. They simmer, like a good stew, and pretty soon the aroma fills the house and seeps into your pores and becomes a part of you. And as I allow the idea to grow and expand, avenues open, scenes appear, dialogue springs to mind. Yesterday, I was washing dishes—a mindless task—and a wonderful scene popped into my head, so good that I stopped what I was doing, grabbed paper and pen, and wrote as fast as I could to capture what I’d been thinking. Mindless tasks are a wonderful way of disengaging the active mind—the one that worries— and letting that inspirational part come forward. Walking, painting, exercise, meditating are all beautiful ways of letting the inner artist come out and play.

I LOVE writing, and I get so impatient. And when I do I reflect on allowing support, nourishment, and inspiration for my writing. Those moments of easy creativity where the words flow like a rushing river. Those times when I can be quiet, be still, be reflective. They will come. Then I’m ever so grateful for what I’ve just received.