Lifting the veil

Already the veil has been tucked away. So scared of the prospect of getting married again. And lifting the veil on my own insecurities, oh my no… I would rather tuck it all safely away, together with the tons of birthday cards we never receive and the notes once the invites are posted. Bakerman has brought me a cheesecake and saucage rolls. I put the fresh in the fridge on platters, ripe for plucking.

“I’m also scared of Willem and that damn swimming pool,” I tell him as I go about my kitchen re-arranging the contents of my refrigerator. “Think I’m going to start blogging again. Is that okay? I am tired of conversations with the Bakerman who delivers my daily bread and makes me fat… And I’ve got time again.”

I look into this eyes as he leaves my house and busies himself to get on to his rounds. I say to myself he should be like Jesus, my personal coach to greatness. No more hiding behind flimsy veils.




What are you waiting for?

Sometimes I get these moments when I look back on a given period in time. I have been having such a moment lately. It got me thinking about what crazy times we live in.

“Hi! How are you guys?” I ask Bakerman over Skype. “Spring soon? Getting scared about my aupair coming. Pfff BNP doesnt want to increase my day rate.”

It has never been easy to sell a product or a service over the internet. There is no real platform where you can just ‘buy’ new and lucrative client projects.

Crazy. Insane.

I have been talking about missed opportunities for too long now with Bakerman. I wonder why I am being so stubborn and focusing on what doesn’t work. I need a personal coach to show me where my best chances lie.

Why? Because I simply don’t know how to. I don’t know the techniques about creating a business out of nothing.

I am not the only one. I hear other entrepreneurs complaining about how to create a successful business. And then I also see other peers making it flawlessly to the top. I want to get there too. But I am going to need help.



Make every day count

Sometimes I purposefully, though unconsciously, cut myself off from my business and workflow so I can avoid dealing with painful issues.

“You could record live webinars in your kitchen and show people how to do it,” I tell Bakerman as we are brainstorming business ideas again. “Sell your recipes. Or maybe you want the quiet life by the sea.”

“Sex on the beach,” Bakerman teases back. I can tell immediately he’s in a funny mood.

“Haha yes that too,” I laugh back. “I’ve never had sex on the beach. I’m 42 for crying out loud. Wouldn’t that be lovely…”

“You don’t need sand in soft places,” Bakerman always knows how to sooth my hurts of lost opportunities.

“No it probably sounds better than it really is,” I decide. It’s like people who claim they were up all night making love. Never done that one either.

“Did you have a good holiday?” Bakerman turns the subject to something more fun.

“Yessss,” I emphasize as I beam at him. “Love my kids sea beach and champagne.”

“No side entertainment?” Bakerman is making sure I was on best behavior.

“No,” I snap back at him and squint my eyes. “Like what?”

“Cava,” Bakerman offers.

“Champagne,” I correct him again. “And a few smokes.”

“Nice,” Bakerman smiles pleased. “Did Wim miss you?”

“Yes,” I smile again. “A bit. Did you?”

“Yes. It was very quite while you were away,” Bakerman admits.

I let out a loud laugh as Bakerman gets to his feet. “Got to go. Be good,” he says as he pecks me fondly on the cheek.

“That company came back to me that I was too expensive,” I tell him on his way out. “Any way I can still win the deal?”

I guess we all experience periods where we are separated from the abundant ebb and flow, be it in business or in our career. These times of being disconnected from a steady source of income may occur for many reasons, but self-sabotage is the most common cause for me cutting myself off from the abundant flow of the universe. I find I cut myself off from this flow so I can avoid dealing with painful issues, shun the necessary steps for growth, or prevent the success I am afraid of achieving from ever happening. When I disconnect from the abundant source, I am blocking the flow of the universe’s generosity. I become like a sleepwalker who is not fully awake to life, and my hopes, plans and dreams begin to appear as distant blurs on a faraway horizon. Universal support has obviously never left me. If only I can remember that I became disconnected from the abundant source by choice, then I can choose to reconnect.



Senegal changed the way I travel

With all my current adventures with the Wizard of Oz, I almost forgot to continue telling you the story of our unforgettable trip to Senegal. By now we are day 6 of our beautiful vacation and I am totally relaxed. And I mean really completely relaxed. I have left my computer at home, for the first time in 10 years of being self-employed. We have limited access to wifi. This technology detox is doing me a world of good. I am spending the best quality time ever with my littles. I am enjoying great food and lots of gin ‘n tonic. The views are breathtaking. Every day new activities and new wonder to discover. Loving it, every minute of this marvelous African continent.

Today we are going to go kayaking in the mangroves, we have been told. Now this is the one activity I am really on edge about. We are talking about taking to the water with all my littles. Meaning that the little control freak that I am will not be able to control and save all three of my babes if something goes wrong. And what could go wrong? Well leave that to my imagination. Let me see… Crocodiles for one. I am sure there are vicious crocodiles lurking in the mangroves, with mean little eyes just surfacing, peeping out at us as delicious prey, swimming beneath our kayaks and then with one swish of their tails upsetting the entire paddle, tossing us into the water and then dragging us to the depths far below where we will be feasted upon as they sing songs of mister crocodile.

Sounds like something I can think up, right? Well, I researched this extensively of course, and just to be sure I backed up the information I had found with our tour guides, who confirmed. Yes, there are crocodiles in Senegal, but not in the mangroves. Good to note is that the crocodiles in Senegal are very different from the aggressive Nile crocodiles found in Egypt. The African ones are more mellow and will only attack a human if they are really starved. Nevertheless, I was assured and reassured that there would be none where we were going to kayak. They were right, we saw no crocodiles.

Next on my list of dangerous animals to worry about were hippos and water snakes. Again I was dissuaded from my anxiety. To top it off I was told that the water is really rather undeep. Knowing this last piece of information is both comforting and spoils part of the fun. Can’t have it all, I guess. Reassurance is “no thrills”.

We arrive at the kayak store which is run by a couple of entrepreneurial French colonialists, just like the magnificent Souimanga Lodge where we are staying. We are given safety attire consisting of kayak boots which fit our feet like little black, rubber socks. We are advised to cover up with sun cream. Yes, as if me and my blonde tribe would really forget this little detail. Last we are handed life vests. There is also a cute little life jacket for baby Willem. I am really cool by now.

We head of to the shore of the Saloum Delta where a school of kayaks is lined up for our pleasure. We all climb aboard in teams of two. Lilly teams up with another little girl called Helena. Because the girls are too small to paddle by themselves, Helena’s mom Sarah accompanies them. Winston really wanted to paddle by himself, and to his great dismay he is teamed with Moussa, one of our tour guides. I myself am holding onto baby Willem for dear life, so I am teamed up with Justin, the strongest and tallest of our tour guides. Meaning he paddles and I sing. I must also add that by day 6 I am totally relaxed and feeling slightly horny in this tropical weather. I think Justin is quite hot actually.

Winston is not happy with his kayak mate. Moussa is deliberately trailing behind to close the line of kayaks. His tactic is to let Winston do all the peddling, which frustrates my eldest son who is set on showing off to the girls in our travel party. To counter this misfortune, I praise Winston often on his strength, how he is peddling that kayak for two, how lazy Moussa is and if it weren’t for him, Winston would be leading this trip. It works. My boy perks up and finds time later on each time when we stop for breaks to impress the group of girls.

The kayak trip through the mangroves is magical. We see birds of all colours and sizes. The water is refreshing but warm. We pass fishermen and their children helping along on their tiny boats. We wave at them and they smile and cheer back at us. All good joy. We make a halt on a sandbank. Take the time to rest our tired muscles. Well not me, because I have just been singing and holding on to Willem. The children run around and get wet and rather dirty in the clay-like mud of the river bed.

When our trip is over, we rinse ourselves down with small water hoses and take off all our attire. Tired but happy, we walk back to our bus which brings us shortly to our lodgings. It is time for some lounging by the pool. Enjoying the sunshine, each other’s company and some great gin ‘n tonic. I swear that drink tastes even better in tropical weather.

In the afternoon, the children gather round the hanging trees outside the lodge’s restaurant where a local artist teaches them to make sand drawings. We had seen these beauties when we first visited Slave Island. Now my darlings are inspired to create one of their own with the different sand colours on a wooden slate carefully using glue and then making the sand fall in the right places. The result is touching and my children are proud of their creations.


The local tailor shows up promptly as agreed to present us the clothes we had designed and ordered just the day before. I am totally amazed and the outfits I discover. True craftsmanship in no time and for such a small price. I have a long African dress with slits up the sides, Winston wears a top and matching pants, Lilly receives a skirt and top in fuchsia with white hearts, and baby Willem matches his top with his big brother. We are ready for our African party that evening.


We are taken to a local restaurant where we will be enjoying a meal under the African sky. Turns out this place is run by the same French entrepreneurs as our lodgings. I must give it to the colonialists, they have a sense for business. Hosting travelers in their hotel, and then casually referring them to a nice local restaurant. Money twice in the pocket. Very smart.

The family who had invited us for dinner by the river show up to start out the festivities. The African women dance for us, sing and make music. They get the stiff Europeans that we are to loosen up and join in the ecstasy of letting go and dancing like nobody is watching. We laugh and we drink, and we totally immerse ourselves in this culture which is so different from ours.

It is dark by the time we sit down to eat. My mellow mood is shocked when my eldest announces that he has finished his desert only to find out it was covered in peanuts. I grab for my cell phone and light up the desert which lies in front of me still untouched as I was talking and drinking and having a good time. To my horror I discover the said peanuts. I flash the light straight onto my darling. No reaction to be seen yet. I panic as Winston has a severe peanut allergy. We have an epi-pen for these occasions but of course the epi-pen is neatly in my toiletry bag in our lodge.

Our tour guide picks up on my commotion and suggests we head straight back to the lodge, full of apologies for forgetting about the allergy I had mentioned explicitly at the beginning of our vacation. At that, our travel mate Sarah jumps up and looks Winston over. It appears to our greatest luck that Sarah is a doctor. Not just a doctor, she is a skilled surgeon. She informs us that if Winston were to react badly to the peanuts, we would not have enough time to get back to the lodge for the epi-pen. She is calm but stays near and observes. After a few minutes she tells me that it’s all okay. If he were to have a full-blown allergic reaction it would have happened by now. We are safe. Her intervention is genius, if only to reassure us that all was okay and that we can continue our pleasurable evening.

Each day here is a unique souvenir. In fact, this is our last full evening and we are enjoying it with all our hearts. Our souls feel free and so connected. The relationship I have with my children, in the truest sense of the word, means relating to each other at a deep level of unconditional love.


Translating a message

The next day, I am working gayly from home on a very riveting analysis where I am about to uncover a website hacking from dubious countries, when the Wizard appears. He twirls a few times around my desk and then finally settles besides me. I hear a “ping” from my inbox and having been distracted already, I decide to take a peep.

“Buenas tardes,” I cheer proud to show off some extra Spanish I picked up from Babble. “Got a reply from the Shepherd.”

The Wizard peers lazily at the screen of my laptop as I read out the message loud and clear.


That is possible.

I read your email. So now it will be ‘digested’ subconsciously.

Contact me back around Tuesday next week.


“What does it mean? What next?” I ask the Wizard after I have let the message sink in for a few silent moments.

“It means he will meditate and connect with you in his subconscious,” the Wizard looks at me much amused. “He must be a tree hugger. Contact him next Tuesday and re-ask your questions.”

“Haha really?” I laugh out loud. It never fails to amaze me how much he can actually read into any given message. “You mean he wants to be like you, my dear Wizard cat?”

“Yes,” the Wizard confirms. And at that he curls up and falls asleep. Or he pretends to at least.

So I am now left to my own devices, feeling a mixture of scared and excited as the dreams I have been chasing start to manifest.

When new challenges and opportunities show up in my life, I can never quite pinpoint to which degree I am actually scared or excited. I have not been taught to welcome the thrill of a new opportunity. This is where fear sets in and when I opt to back off. My panic attacks indulge my anxiety instead of awakening my courage. Instead I would like to inspire myself to embrace the opportunities that come my way. I want to chose for excitement, curiosity, passion, and even love.

There is nothing wrong with being afraid. However I will no longer let it stop me from doing the things that excite me. Brave people are not fearless. They are simply more comfortable with fear because they face it by carefully weighing up the pros and the cons before they act. So now I want to face the challenges rather than the anxieties. I want to cultivate my ability to move forward instead of backing off. I want to trust myself to be able to handle new opportunities.

Framing things differently can dramatically shift your mental state. I am excited to have the opportunity to do things I have never done before. Just saying this out loud I feel my energy shifting from fear to excitement. I am empowered with energy to move forward, to grow and learn.

Your turn.

* Disclaimer : Any resemblance between the fictional characters in this story and any persons, living or dead, is a miracle by chance more than by choice.

What are your dreams, desires and destinations for 2018?

“Good morning,” I cheer at the Wizard when I find him in the same place the next morning. “Hello! All packed?”

But the lazy animal just sleepily opened and closed its eyes again. Not in the least interested in my question. I don’t always deal with being ignored in the most graceful manner, so I remember my chat with the butterfly lady from New Zealand and decide to drop her another line.

“Hi lady Butterfly, regarding our chat…” I start out, as this is a subject which keeps looping in my mind nowadays. “Any suggestions when you would like to set this up?”

No point in beating about the bush. I really want this chat now. And for some reason I sense that the butterfly lady is cautiously edging out. Maybe she found my latest blog posts about Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz slightly too psychedelic. Maybe she thinks I’m a wacko person after all.

“I’m at our holiday beach cottage and can talk on FaceTime or messenger or Skype,” she writes back to me. “Why don’t we arrange it over the coming days. Ok? Can talk forever.”

“That’s fantastic! Keep me posted.” I reply but really I’ve understood that patience is going to be needed in this instance. Patience to hear from the butterfly lady when she is ready to talk. And find out what all of this is about. Her last message ended with ‘could talk forever’ and the impatient little girl inside of me is remarking that we haven’t really been chatting a lot at all. Not enough to my liking.

“Did you enjoy the end of the year?” I ask the cat again, to no avail.

“Happy new year!” I write to the butterfly lady again. Now looking back it is so clear I am looking for some attention and distraction. Only the same morning had I dropped of my Wim at the hospital for his upcoming operation. If you remember me reporting, my man is fighting cancer and has to have his entire colon removed. I am doing my best to keep up a strong positive front, but kidding nobody not even myself in the process.

“Ahh just been to a great dance party but now en route home thanks be for the actual,” another message from the butterfly lady. “You were a highlight of 2017 dear Fiona and now… Home is where the heart is. All love.”

By now my growing concern for my life partner and another mysterious message from the butterfly lady, and life itself has gotten the better of me. I cannot think to answer immediately. How can I be the highlight of someone’s life? Especially if I have never met this person, never talked to her? Maybe she belonged to some kind of writers’ club. Maybe they had spent a few evenings reading out my blog posts and laughing about my writing. That would be positive in some way, I try to convince myself.

“Happy new year to you and yours,” the Wizard cat comes floating past me as I work off my frustration with a workout session on the crosstrainer. “May 2018 bring you blessings unlooked for.” And at that the Wizard dissolves slowly in mid-air again. Appearing, disappearing at the strangest of times.

“Thank you,” I smile back a forced grin. “Blessings mean a lot to me. So much to talk about. Must catch up soon. Wishing you all the best.” I shout after the smoke of disappearing cat.

“Hi lady Butterfly, I must say I am intrigued,” I write back what I put together in my mind while working out. “How can I be the highlight of 2017 if we haven’t properly talked yet? My curiosity is definitely getting the best of me here. Let me know when you want to talk. Facetime works for me, or Skype. Would be good to agree on timing. Happy new year! May 2018 bring many blessings.”

“Fiona You are right in voicing your curiosity because I am so embarrassed to even explain to you what has happened here. You must think me some kind of a fulsome stalker. Are you free to quickly talk so I can explain further?”


Have you ever noticed how you are unable to think of new or original things to say when you are extremely tired? Instead, you repeat the things which are at the front of your mind. Still, I think the Wizard’s New Year’s wish was a nice one to repeat. So happy I did so.


* Disclaimer : Any resemblance between the fictional characters in this story and any persons, living or dead, is a miracle by chance more than by choice.

Good guests for Christmas #GoodbyeDorothy

It’s Christmas Day and Dorothy does actually turn up on my doorstep accompanied by somebody who looks vaguely familiar, but who I can’t quite place. He introduces himself as the Wizard of Oz.

“Tell me.” The Wizard asks.

“What?” I ask him as I feel tears welling up once again.

“What’s on your mind.” He repeats gently.

“Nothing.” I lie. “I’m working on getting new clients and trying to relax and be a good mom. I want to be comfortable and successful again. Nothing else on my mind. I don’t think.”

“Ok. What’s in Dorothy’s mind?” The Wizard nods at Dorothy, who is sitting there looking out of this world, at least with her thoughts.

“Nothing.” I say meekly as I look down at my hands. “Not sure I like Dorothy or if she’s a genuine friend. She’s not always nice to me and her advice is dubious and her business ideas seem like scams. How bad does that sound? I’m doubting my own imaginary friend.”

“I think you should teach Dorothy. Not the other way round.” The Wizard advises me as he gives me a friendly wink.

“Just shows how bad my negative self-talk is.” I go on complaining. “I should indeed. Wonder where the reversal came from? Dorothy is rubbish.”

“Tell Dot we do what we do because we get something out of it. What does she get from negative dialogue?” The Wizard goes on comforting me.

“She seems to enjoy it.” I say sarcastically. “Sabotage! Sneaky woman!” And then I look at the Wizard attentively. “This is hard… Who are you then?”

“What does Dot get out of living and holding onto the past?” The Wizard continues in a voice which I find extremely soothing. “Yes I saw. I am Doc Oz.”

“It helps her make sense of the present.” I replay recent events in my mind. “A continuum.”

“No she needs to learn that the present is where she must be and decide how she wants it to affect her future. Change is hard and others don’t want her to change. So they will do what ever it takes to keep her in the past. But Doc Oz wants her to move into her present and plan her future by getting out of the past.” The Wizard says wisely. “So Doc Oz and Dorothy fight a lot.”

“Okay Dorothy still wants to go home to those horrible people who want her to be the scapegoat, the black sheep. So every now and again she has to sabotage herself and make sure the story reaches home. Look what a mess she’s got herself into now.” I am starting so see many patterns emerging, and I understand the how and the why. The only difficulty is going to be helping Dorothy move past it.

“The only thing Dorothy has to lose by moving into the present is her children and her life. Everything else is replace-able.” The Wizard looks at me intently now, to make sure that I understand the gravity of the situation.

“And what she really should do is just take off her shoes and she will be alright.” I look down at Dorothy’s stiletto heels which pinch my toes just by looking at them. “Dorothy doesn’t care much for her life. You should know that. It’s the kids that keep her going. And ladybird talks.”

“That’s a sad angle. She should care. She only has one shot at it.” The Wizard says and throws another compassionate and affectionate look at Dorothy.

“Sorry. It is what it is as you always say.” I say as I have given up. “It’s not much fun. You can convince yourself it is, life is an adventure etc. But sooner or later reality catches up.”

“Does she not understand the system will keep her in the past using fear of loss to control her? Yet the chains are made out of wet toilet paper.” The Wizard is adamant to make progress in a case that seems long lost to me.

“Hahaha!” I sneer with clear sarcasm. All those wonderful words and never a hint of what should really be done.

“You can do whatever you want within reason. Building takes time. Patience is needed. Planning a life plan is needed. Reachable or doable goals are required.” The Wizard’s face is kind and patient.

“Yes right.” I say as I mentally close off to all suggestions.

“Showing-off goals are empty.” The Wizard looks around my living room.

“Look it’s admirable that you keep trying with me but let’s face it. I’m a lost cause.” I tell him with irritation. I can’t be fixed. I won’t be. “Yes yes, showing off, of course.”

“No you are not lost. I know where to find you.” The Wizard says. And he has a point, for there he is on Christmas day sitting nicely in the comfort of my living room.

“I want things and I can’t have them.” I point out and I feel the sting.

“You can. You just need to know instant gratification is short term. You need to build you knowledge base and grow.” The Wizard advises.

“I went from a sexless bullying marriage into a half-commited half-free relationship. Different guy, different problem. But same bottom line: I’m still living a half life.” I pauze for a moment to wipe away a few tears that seem to have lost their way. “I went from a horrible family over friends who use me to no friends at all. Bottom line the same: I am lonely.”

“Yes indeed. They get the convenience and you get to be lonely.” The Wizard confirms he has seen my struggle and understands my pain.

“It’s theory and you know it!” I let my frustration show. “I’ s a mirage. All you tell me doesn’t exist. I don’t know how others do it.”

“No it’s work, effort and curiosity.” The Wizard sets the record straight.

“Yes yes.” I mutter, and feel more anger and frustration at words and sentences I can’t make work in my life. “Well I’ll just keep doing this: single mum 3 kids travel yoga. That’s what I’m good at and what makes me happy. Everything else is fake.”

“Yes three kids are wonderful but make it difficult to find a full-time relationship. But it is not impossible.” The Wizard adjusts my statements here and there.

“It is.” I truly believe it is all impossible fairytale stuff.

“No you need to aim higher.” The Wizard smiles.

“You know what? I’m not going to aim at all. Men are a disappointment and selfish. Sex is overrated.” I give the Wizard a defying look “I’ll be just fine with my children.”

“Looking for easy to manipulate men is not the answer. Learning to listen even when you are not interested is a very good skill to acquire.” It hasn’t gone unnoticed to the Wizard that I mentally close myself off when I can’t handle the situation anymore.

“And I’ll be alone by 50.” I snap again. “So bloody what?”

“Your pussy will fill up with salt and make you bitter.” The Wizard laughs at his own joke.

“And who’s problem is that?” I look at him still seething with anger and frustration.

“That’s so what. But you could have had Marc yet you gave up a full time partner for Wim. Your choice. You reap what you sow.” The Wizard toyed with a glass ball for a few seconds and then let it disappear back into this jacket again.

“It’s not your problem.” I repeat as I don’t understand why this total stranger cares so much.

“Its yours.” The Wizard replies sadly.

Marc wasn’t interested.” I give my version of my truth. “Come on. He ran fast and far. Stop trying to fix me.”

“Yes he was until you lied to him and rejected him in the worst possible way you could.” The Wizard still has an extremely sad look on his face, and I would almost feel sorry for him, but I can’t because it annoys me that he is sad for me.

“Nobody wants me.” I cry. “So just leave me here nicely on the shelf. Yes like the elf on the shelf.”

“I guess so if you believe that. Question is are you want-able material?” The Wizard throws some philosophical questions my way.

“Well I’m sorry about Marc. But he’s a bastard. Never looked once at his own beautiful baby. He can bugger off!” I shout vehemently. “I’m not wantable. There. End of story. Nobody wants me. So what?”

“Oooh you really are down.” The Wizard now pulls a box of dark chocolates out of the other pocket and puts it down right in front of me.

“One day I’ll be an antique.” I continue pitying myself whilst I pop a dark chocolate baton in my mouth. “I am hurting a lot. Yes. So?”

“Yes you will be and all covered in salt.” The Wizard teases me as he seems content to see me eating the chocolates.

“That’s my problem and I’m not too bothered. I’ve given up.” I say with a steady demeanour now. These chocolates are delicious. I think I’ll just have one more. It’s Christmas after all.

“It’s just an adjustment in how you think about things and what type of actions you take.” The Wizard makes it all sound so easy.

“Yes yes of course.” I say absent mindedly. “I always make the wrong choice. Always pull the shortest straw. Nothing new.”

“Well I am not so sure about that.” The Wizard winks at me again.

“Really?” I raise an eyebrow as I munch away at the delicious chocolate. “The proof. I have a nice life.”

“Yes I think you sabotage yourself.” The Wizard points out.

“I love my life.” I smile clearly enjoying my chocolate. “Yes I do. Can’t help it though. The sabotaging. Don’t know I do it till it’s too late.”

“I think you react to soon without any thought or patience.” The Wizard shares with me.

“Yes of course.” Do you think the Wizard will find me greedy if I have one more piece of chocolate?

“Try a different approach and wait twenty seconds before you reply. First think if what you want to snap back will really give you your desired result.” The Wizard has such a kind voice. I could listen to him for hours on end.

“Of course.” I don’t want him to know I really enjoy listening to him. Or maybe it’s the chocolate I prefer. Not sure. “I don’t believe in my desired outcome. I’ll never have a fulfilling close intimate relationship where I live together with my partner in my dream house playing happy families with my children. And I will never have a happy family life.”

“Your choice.” The Wizard replies weakly.

“What I do have is three beautiful children and my dream house where we can play crazy in our own little family.” My face always lights up when I talk about my little darlings. “It’s not a choice. It’s realistic. It is what it is. And I am making the most of what is.”

“Very good.” The Wizard nods at me encouragingly. “It needs to work for you and drive you to success.”

“The only thing you do is hurt me till I cry. You hold up mirages of things I will never have. I am not running after the carrot anymore. I am working on finding new clients” I repeat for the so manieth time.

“I see.” Said the Wizard, And he reminds me of how my grandmother used to say that. “I see said the blind man.”

“Nobody will give it to me. It is all hard work just me by myself.” I tell him.

“Yes it is.” The Wizard confirms.

“Right.” I say with visible disappointment. I was kind of hoping the Wizard would magic me a happy ever after.

“I don’t mean to hurt you. Perhaps I see more in you then you do. I will stop encouraging you to look deeper into your soul.” The Wizard says pensively.

“Yes please give up on me. I am hopeless.” I tell him. But I am dreading him getting up and leaving me to my own devices.

“No I won’t give up just yet.” The Wizard smiles as he offers me the last chocolate.

“Poop.” I lie for I am relieved and grateful he will stick around a little longer.

“We will try a different tact.” The Wizard tells me mysteriously.

“Yeay!” I cheer for joy. I am happy there will be more magic and adventures to come. I am happy and grateful that I am not alone on my journey. And I love listening to the softness of his voice.

“Ok you have a nice Christmas day. Work hard and don’t worry too much. It will all be OK.” Those are the true magic words any woman needs to hear, and the Wizard has understood that all too well.

“You too! I will keep my fingers crossed that Dorothy receives her documents soon.” I smile as I get up to let my guests out.


* Disclaimer : Any resemblance between the fictional characters in this story and any persons, living or dead, is a miracle by chance more than by choice.