Ah, Lena, if I had your gorgeous talent at being able to write utterly expressively, so that in three sentences or less your meaning is articulate and interesting, I could answer that question about my "thing" more easily! But the simplest answer is FEAR. I am waking to a dawn whose light is revealing the extent to which fear has been dictating a lot of my life choices, without my even being aware of it. I've been avoiding a passionate life because of so many fears, fear of failing, or of just being mediocre, fear of rejection, fear of irresponsibility, fear of commitment... all these things being intertwined, of course. One can't necessarily live one's whole life at a fevered pitch -- one has to sleep sometimes, after all -- and some of the choices I made several years ago were good at the moment, but I've allowed them to stay with me for longer than their useful lifespan. I've been lazy, really. But I think one gets lazy out of fear. So it's time for a major change. Birds help, honestly. They are in my dreams and in my waking life, and I seek them out. It was actually just on Wednesday the 11th that I was out taking photographs of my museum when two great blue herons wheeled up overhead from out of the marsh, maybe they were in Australia two days later though I doubt it...I couldn't take a photo, just had to hold my breath and watch. I need to sing, and I am singing the songs that others have written that seem to get at what I'm feeling. But even that is a refuge; the real thing to do, barring fear, is to make my own songs. By the way, my other name is catbird. Margaret