"I think being a woman is like being Irish." — Iris Murdoch

Last night I was pretty upset. After putting Emma to bed I was so wiped out that I kissed Nelson good night (he was watching the news, as usual) and went to meditate.  I was surprised by how quickly my mind relaxed. I managed to stay in a restful, empty place for what seemed a long time.  Pretty lucky.

I kept at it until he came to bed, and as I stood up, this thought popped into my head:  You can't expect the answer.

That's a phrase with at least two meanings:  one is that I can't expect to be given an answer.  I've got to try things, to do things, to get moving and find my own solution.

The other meaning is that if whatever gets me out of my present problem, whatever unties the knot -- if it's something new, then I won't be able to anticipate it.  I'll have to be open enough to grab it when it appears.

And I did have a dream last night.  I was singing in a concert, something I used to do a lot, but this time I wasn't ready.   I've *never* forgotten the words to a song, but I sang two songs and screwed them both up by not remembering the lyrics.  So when I woke up, I asked myself, What does that mean?  Am I unprepared?