The Power of the Possible is a recipient of An Honorable Mention at the June 2008 New York City Book Festival Awards.

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"I want this book at my fingertips to read over and over, allowing it to open wherever it pleases. Some pages are dog eared and there are crumbs in the creases. Every time I read it I am lifted, my heart opens and there is more space for love. The Power of the Possible has made it clear what really matters in my relationships. One afternoon I heard a chapter that in a magical moment opened my heart to see what I had missed in all my relationships. That moment changed me forever."

Alicia Forester, Forester Landscaping, Mill Valley, Ca.

Excerpt From The Introduction

All of my life, above anything else, I wanted to make “love” work. And yet I was failing at it. My first marriage had ended in divorce. I was in love again, but the relationship had reached an impasse. I “couldn’t change” my boyfriend of 3 years, no matter how hard I tried. The thought of leaving him was unbearable. I was gasping for air before I could finish the thought. I was lost, I doubted everything: myself, him, our future together.

One night, unable to sleep, I found myself on the living room floor. It must have been close to three o’clock in the morning. Outside, it was pitch black. No moon, starless sky, no light coming into my window - a quiet time so still I could hear my nails scratching the surface of the floor rug. Curled in a fetal position, I lay without movement. I could not cry. I was beyond tears. It was despair so dark and bottomless, all I could do was lie in this deep black void without hope or thought…Sometimes my fists would clench and unclench. I could feel the dull ache in the pit of my stomach throbbing, contracting - the only physical sensation. I could not pray.

“I know you exist,” I whispered to God, to the Goddess… “but right now I can’t feel it.”

“I can’t fight any more,” I said out loud.

I had not turned on the light and the living room was almost black. My eyes were used to the dark by then, and I could see the outlines of furniture in the room. How long did I stay on that floor, lost to everything but my despair? At some point I drifted to sleep, then opened my eyes again. Empty, spent, I lay there a while longer, then got up and went to bed. My boyfriend, Mykaell, the “source of my pain”, turned in his sleep and snuggled up to me. He did not wake up.

I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke up in the morning, the familiar sense of frustration and pain I had been getting up with were gone. I was surrounded in a cocoon of gentleness. I don’t think I had ever felt this way before. I felt tenderness towards everything and nothing in particular, mostly toward myself. It was as if all the fight had been taken out of me, “scooped out” while I was sleeping, and the emptiness that replaced it had not yet been filled. I was floating somewhere, I knew not where. I had no expectation and no pain. It was a vulnerable, peaceful space. I thought about Mykaell. It somehow did not matter at all whether or not he changed. He was beautiful just the way he was.

It was a day of soft edges and kindness. I felt wordless gratitude, then sorrow, then quick spasms of joy. At times, I cried and was not sure what I was crying about. When Mykaell came home from work, and we sat down to dinner, it was as if we’d entered a different world, one that hitherto did not exist.

Everything between us felt new, tentative and real. I knew I was different, but so was he. How much had I fought him in the past, trying to get him to change and be the way I wanted him to be…to no avail. It had only lead to more and bitter fighting…Yet suddenly, without my saying a word, he had discarded the old way of being like an old worn-out coat never to be picked up again…

As the days and weeks unfolded, I marveled at the profound change in my life. “What happened to you?” my friends would ask. “What happened to both of you? I have seen you happy before, but this is different…”

Friends began to call me asking for advice, referring their friends to me as well. “Let’s talk” I would say… It was a gift to be able to watch people’s eyes change their color as the light of hope touched them while they sat and listened to my stories. Could it be that, after all, happiness was not an impossible dream?

Over the years the need to share what I have received grew stronger. And with it - the pull to write. I call the book The Power of the Possible.