Somewhere last night, a $1700 cashier's check fell out of my pocket. It was for my rent (the problem with having a client 75 days late with their check is that didn't help my rent check not bounce). It's either near the bank or at college. The bad part is, it doesn't have my name on it anywhere.

For some reason, I'm not worried. I just got a $900 check from the state for teaching, so I know I've got the rent money covered, even if I can't find it. But still, $1700 would make my life a heck of a lot more comfortable this month. I could get my car fixed for starters. I could start up with pilates again. I might even be able to go on a date (heaven forbid).

But I'm not worried. And I don't know why.

Maybe I really am learning to surrender and release to the Universe.

UPDATE
I began my search for the lost $1700 cashier's check by retracing my steps by going to the bank and walking to Walgreens. I went into Walgreens and asked if they found an envelope.

A young man responded "with a cashier's check inside?"

They found it and kept it in the store safe.

Guess that's why I wasn't worried.

Surrender and release... surrender and release.

Today I spoke to a lovely woman who I'm going to meet for coffee tomorrow. I haven't been on a date -- nevermind a first date -- in more than a year.

I wonder what the Universe will bring.

The challenge with catching the 6:22 train is that I often forget to include enough time in my preparations to imbibe the necessary amount of caffeine for the day. Today was one such day.

So I got off the Jitney bus across from the Mission Street Peet's Coffee. Mind you, I've been struggling with the lessons that come from watching people close to you struggle. From 17-year-old Brandon's struggles with cancer, pneumonia, and back surgery, to my friend Eve's heart attack, to Hank's concern for his son, to my son's desire to be with his girlfriend (instead of in college).

It's all got me thinking, "There, but for the grace of God go I." And it's got me thinking, all we really have is today. Be in the here and now.

So I'm waiting for one of my favorite loving gifts from God -- a soy mocha -- when I look outside to see a man about my age holding up a sign, asking for 49 cents. And I thought back to something Neal Donald Walsh said in "The Moses Code". "I am that... I am," I thought. Then I remembered that song by EverLast (talk about a group of Indigo Warriors) called "What it's like" and suddenly flashed on the movie "Conversations With God" -- and I pulled a dollar out of my pocket.

I walked up to the man, who had moved to help me open the door. I held out the dollar and smiled at him. He thanked me and blessed me (I'm always grateful when somebody blesses me). I invited him to have a good day, and he said this was a good start. Then he said might have found a job. I congratulated him and smiled again. Once again, he blessed me.

And my heart opened a little wider.

Walking down the street to the office of the nonprofit where I work on Wednesday, I wondered how I could survive without as much work -- I have too much work right now (unfortunately, none of it pays spectacularly, but it's all with good people). I crossed the street, past the Old Mint, and saw three or four people sleeping on cardboard on the sidewalk.

"I am that, I am."

And the tears welled up under my glasses. I looked at the two men I passed on the way to my office. And I saw beauty in their sleeping faces. And I felt grateful for all that I have. All that I am. All that I do.

We are all one. And when you pause to notice it, you find that it really is a beautiful thing.

Namaste.

Romance. I just don't get it. There are dynamics at play in romance and dating that seem to require an ability to act and play that I simply lack.

The thing that I don't understand is how upset people get with me for being honest. I'm looking for one specific person, and I'm willing to wait for her. So, while I am looking, I'm not actively dating. Yet people get hurt when I say, "Thank you, but I'm really looking for something else."

Maybe it's disappointment, I just wish it wouldn't show up as anger. I'm starting to lose friends because of it (they wanted more than friendship, even though I've been completely honest and upfront).

I guess that's just what happens when things turn romantic for one but not the other.

The children in rural Africa. Their smiles. Their joy in little things, like seeing themselves on camera. They are the hope of Africa. They inspire me to make this world a better place. To help them find ways out of poverty and hunger. To me, they are the proof of the power of the human spirit.

In 2002, I had a conscious past-life experience with my son watching. We went to Medicine Wheel in Wyoming, with an ex-girlfriend. As we were walking toward the wheel, I had this feeling of being a little kid again. I started skipping (which will always freak out a 12-year-old boy).

When we got to the Wheel, I started talking about how the kids used to play on the rocks while the parents offered prayers. The ranger asked how I knew that. I had no idea. And then I jumped off the cliff, landing on a ledge about three feet below. "We used to hide here," I said.

The next morning I met my spirit guides during a meditation on a rock in the Black Hills of South Dakota. When we got back to California, I immediately began investigating vision quests and shamanism, and haven't looked back.

This morning I got this great message from The Universe (www.tut.com):

And it got me thinking about the lessons and breakthroughs I've been having lately. You see, I've met another soul sister. Not a soulmate, a soul sister.

She's one of a handful of people who have told me that they see me as powerful. She said she would follow me anywhere. She said that I make her want to believe in things she stopped believing in.

She has taught me more about personal power in the past few weeks than all the books I've read and lectures I've attended.

You see, she believes in me. She believes me when I say, "It will be alright." She believes me when I talk about coming from love. And she trusts that what I say is my truth.

Want to talk about being held to a higher standard?

Soul sisters and brothers do that. They sweep into your life and hold you to a higher standard. Mostly because you want to be your very best around them. Pettiness doesn't even enter the world when you're with them.

My friend Hank is my soul brother. He's another one who just holds up that mirror and smiles as I rise to the challenge. He sees the power in me and just expects it to show up. He never shows disappointment if it doesn't, but he smiles wryly when it does.

The guy is a real-life hero. He's seen and experienced things I doubt I'd have the strength to weather -- and hope I never have to. He's one of those guys who stands strong when it would be perfectly acceptable to fall apart.

The guy inspires me.

I'm finding more everyday heroes everywhere I look. People who inspire me to live a life worthy of my talents and gifts.

I'm also noticomg more and more of my soul family are showing up in my life. Maybe this is because I'm more aware of who I am and more aware of the amazing synchronicities.

Or maybe it's time for me to really step it up.

She smiled at me. Kitti had a way of looking into me. Past my eyes and my smile. Into my soul. A couple of years ago, that would have made me uncomfortable. Not that night.

“Do you think you have a presence?” she asked.

How do you respond to that without sounding completely egotistical? Wait, is that the ego talking? Would a grounded, confident, and centered man wonder how to answer that question without sounding egotistical? I paused.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

“I’d say you do,” she smiled again. She looked me straight in the eye. She reached across the table. “You have this huge presence. It’s this… calming… but that’s not the right word. It’s as though your whole presence is saying, ‘It’s going to be alright.’”

I smiled. Involuntarily (as I melted), I cocked my head to the side and looked into her eyes.

“Thank you.”

We continued to talk about leadership, since the conversation had started with me talking about Tom Brokaw's presence during the Stanford Roundtable on Leadership.

As she drove me back to where I had left my car, Kitti said to me, "You're gentle, and I don't usually like soft."

That's when it hit me.

My gentleness is my power. I have finally stepped into a level of authenticity that enables me to be powerful by being gentle. To be respected for being compassionate. To be followed for who I am and what I bring out in others.

Kitti offered the theory that some people just elicit leadership in you. They see something admirable in you and they are willing to learn from you in that way.

Others invite you to follow. They don’t demand it. They earn it through their actions. They command your respect because of who they are and how they choose to lead their life.

Usually, they hold up a mirror and invite you to step into your power. They bring out the greatness in you, and hold you personally accountable for living up to your own standards. And they usually do that without a word.

I have learned over my life that leadership isn’t about effective administration. True leadership has the responsibility to bring about change — in an organization, in a way of thinking, in a person, or in the world.

It’s about pushing against the common wisdom, without losing a sense of perspective. So you find what works and improve it until what works overwhelms and makes no room for what doesn’t.

True leadership is about being authentic, because you need to be believed in order to be heard. You can only lead when you walk the walk while you talk the talk. People can sense an authentic leader as easily as they can smell an insincere one. They will flock to an authentic leader and will undermine the other.

Leadership is about reducing complexity to what needs to be done. Then finding the most empowering way to communicate what needs to be done. Because true leaders have the humility to recognize that they cannot do it alone. They need a collection of powerful people around them, who are all energized by the same vision and dream.

Kavita Ramdas said that the profound underlying foundation of success is that it is the community that leads. Collective leadership is more likely to create lasting change than a single hero.

I’m not a heroic leader. I don’t ride in on a white horse and make everything better. I’m a teacher. I help people see their hidden talents. I hold up the mirror and invite them to live their lives at a higher level (and at the same time do the same thing to myself).

It’s taken a long time to realize that I’ve always had this power. Fortunately, now I know that I also have the compassion to use it for good.

I'm aware of five things right now. To expand the consciousness of the Universe. To help others come to know their higher self. To enjoy life. To remember how to surrender and release. And to realize and remember just how truly blessed I am.

Mostly I'm working on surrendering and releasing into the Universe. However, I who I am dictates that I keep doing the things that flow through me. So I'm finishing up a photo book for holiday gifts, starting to outline my next novel, and staying afloat financially to take care of my responsibilities. I'm sharing Reiki, teaching my craft, writing essays that hopefully inspire somebody, and being the best friend I can be.

Yes, I'm a little more busy than I might like at times. But I love everything I do and the people I do it with. So I guess that makes me truly blessed.

I know it's a natural part of growing up for my kids to want to be with their peers rather than their parents. I know the last two people I wanted to hang out with were my parents when I was 17.

Still, I miss them.

I miss my daughter calling me and asking if I wanted to take her to get her hair cut. Or inviting me to take her to the mall. Or telling me that she didn't want anybody else going to the lacrosse game but me.

I miss my Tuesday night sushi with my son. I miss discussing life and love with him. Dreams, aspirations, goals, and girls. I miss walking through art-n-wine festivals with him, or talking about cars.

I know it's their job. They need to spread their wings and take flight. I just wish it wasn't away from me.

Then again, I'm glad they both feel confident and healthy enough to do it. I would hate to have to push them out of the nest.

In case this comes across as sad, it's really much more about what James Taylor says...

This morning, while waiting for the 6:22 train, I was just looking around when I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a little mouse. She was scurrying here and there, looking for little scraps to eat. Every time I moved, she would jump and run under the bench, peer at me, then venture back out in search of food.

I watched her for more than 10 minutes, smiling, thinking of how scurry is the best way to describe her movements. Those little feet moving so fast that they're practically a blur -- especially after just a few hours of sleep. Guess I'm easily amused.

After she darted away because other humans were taking up their positions on the platform, I noticed just how foggy it was. San Francisco is known for it's fog, as is London. The worst I've ever seen is the tule fog on the Yolo Causeway near Davis, California. It gets so thick that 30 feet of visibility is a break. Today, I couldn't really make out either end of the platform from my position mid-platform. I looked up and watched the fog wisp past the light the illuminated the platform. Little specks of white swarming together like tiny fish that you could only really notice in large numbers. The seemed to move up and to my right.

When the express whooshed through the station, I turned my back to steady myself against the turbulence. I looked up again, and watched the mist dance in the eddies of the passing train. It was like ballet with millions of little white dots. Again, I smiled.

It's good to be easily entertained.

One day on iTunes, this song was available as a free download. One listen was all it took for me. The lyrics hit me square in the middle of the chest and resonated throughout my entire being.

It's where I am.

Hope you enjoy it.