This morning I sit with a cup of coffee at my table. In front of me lies a stack of history. It is a precious gem. The record of the past. I have merely flipped through it, but my mind is spinning. Still stimulated by a conversation on Saturday in San Francisco. The wicked witch stares up at me - a photocopy cut out and typewritten words - some of the most creative events I have ever read about, participated in and remember.

My trip north was very productive. Well, productive is not actually the word. I spent about 5 hours total at blogher. I wandered around the city, sipping from my favorite haunts. I re-connected with several and forged deeper connections with few. I am constantly amazed at how amazing my life is - and how my relationships surprise me with their authenticity, newness and impeccible timing. I could expect no less.

I have much to digest. I am gathering data. I am creating something new. Phoenix rises from the flames. What will that phoenix be? What green thing will I grow from the ashes? I turn to history - to the past - for inspiration and guidance. I turn to the future to see the possibilities and outcomes and I inspect the present - to understand which path to take and in which way to make what is begging to be manifested.