Sleep eludes me tonight. I think it’s the prednisone. The pharmacist warned me that it might make me jittery so I was advised to take it a few hours before going to bed… but I forgot. So now here I am in the wee hours munching on sweet/sour Clementine oranges and waiting for my Breathe Easy tea to steep.

I’ve been sick for the past week. When I finally wasn’t getting over it, I went to the doctor yesterday and she said “Yep… you’ve got tonsilitis.” Doctors have been trying to take those babies out of me for more than 30 years, but could never quite make up their minds. So today, even though they are each about the same size as my Clementines, I’m keeping them right where they are. I have no desire to be an adult tonsilectomy patient. None. [Thankfully the meds are working.]


This is a dangerous post to write. Dangerous because there will be some readers who will misinterpret it… and then have hurt feelings. And the ones who do interpret it correctly might also have hurt feelings.

So I hesitate to click Publish. But perhaps the message is worth the risk.

If you have never read the book The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, then I suggest you run right down to your local bookstore, log onto, or find a nearby Target {they have kept it on their bookshelves for many years} and go get a copy. I have about five different versions… each a special new edition with updates, illustrations, anniversary comments and the like. I really like this story… can you tell?

You might first look at it and decide that it’s a nice simple-minded piece of fiction. But look again. It’s about spiritual journeys. Yours and mine. There are whole invisible layers of meaning hiding in the tale of the shepherd boy, Santiago.


What I want to focus on here is one short line: Life attracts life.

To which I add my own thought: Un-life repels life.

[You’ll have to read the book to find out what each of those means to Santiago.]

I am at a place and space when I am desperately seeking life. I have found plenty of un-life. It pains me to think that out loud. Now I need to find life… in the same way that Santiago finds life.

All of us gravitate to the people and places and circumstances that fill us with love, joy, peace, confidence and self-worth. When we fall into places of un-life, it can be a hugely difficult return journey to the light.

Escape Velocity

challengerMustering up the energy and momentum to reach escape velocity might call us to sacrifice everything. Everything.

The good news is that God understands and then the whole universe will conspire to help a person achieve her dream.

But every test will be presented along the way… to give her an opportunity to test her resolve… to decide if the dream is, in fact, her ultimately desired goal.

And then as the old adage goes: It is always darkest right before the dawn… the night will close in and she will be blinded in darkness.

That’s how the story always goes for the hero and heroine. Always. [Email me if you ever find a story or movie where that doesn’t happen.]

It is not an easy journey for the soul, but it is necessary.

Because all of life is fragile and precious. It must be lived to its highest potential. And life is too short to live with un-life.

Whatever un-life you have in your daily routine, I hope you will choose to change it.

Change it or change you. Either way. Sometimes both are required. And change is hard. Trust me… I know.

If you need help, email or call me. I will help you reach escape velocity. I’m getting ready to strap on my own wings. We can fly together.

Brave Voyager Onward.


About Elaine Menardi

Heading off on a new adventure! I solve problems and make ideas happen.

2 responses »

  1. Ronald of Richmond says:

    Not so veiled meaning on the continuing journey to escape velocity

What do you think? Love to hear from you.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s