Tales of Not Quitting – Our Adventures with ANGEL LADY

Tales of Not Quitting – Our Adventures with ANGEL LADY

Thirty years ago, I was a single mom with the extremely unglamorous job of selling sandwiches door to door in office buildings on Sunset Boulevard. Some of these stops were talent agencies. It was mortifying to be rolling my sandwich cart into the trendy rooms where talent agents were working the phones on behalf of their clients, even though I’d stopped acting when I had my daughter Sophie.

How to Start Each Day Anew Despite Everything – Five Suggestions

How to Start Each Day Anew Despite Everything – Five Suggestions

I suggest going to bed earlier as a solid guarantee that you’ll wake up feeling better and more hopeful about Life. It’s obvious that folks everywhere are drained by the horrendous events we’ve endured. Also, drink half your weight in ounces of water. Yet, despite extra rest and hydration, there are lots of days when I’m reluctant to put my feet on the floor.

Recovering Self-Confidence

Recovering Self-Confidence

You may assume that the person writing this “How To” is an expert on the subject of Self-Confidence….I am not! This is my pain point!
After my twenties, Huge Doubts plopped itself down on a couch in the dark, dank living room of my ego. Any time I thought of doing something courageous in pursuit of my dream, Doubt sat up and wagged a warning finger.
“Don’t get your hopes up, girly. You know what happens.”

“See that Syl sits on the front row.”

“See that Syl sits on the front row.”

So picture my dear mama (emphasis on the second syllable – as elocuted in Downton Abbey) Sylvia Myers Willoughby, age around 88, sitting comfortably in a corner of this settee, crime novel in hand. It’s cocktail time at the Lake, which invariably involves gin and tonics and a tray of sharp, sweating Vermont cheddar perched atop Triscuits.

How the Angels Dragged Me to Higher Ground

How the Angels Dragged Me to Higher Ground

It was about six years ago. I was riding a bicycle across the multiple train tracks in a small, charming rural town in Cajun Prairie country, in Louisiana. I had my laundry carefully folded and packed into two large plastic bags that were hanging from my handlebars. Apparently, I hadn’t really thought through the mechanics of this transport.