Last night I got to see a cherished old friend in a dream. It was a special treat, as it has been years... I find dreams to be a rich source of experience and healing. At night the psyche goes to work for us, as would a cleaning service scouring an office building after hours, preparing it for the next day of activity. It pulls up stuff that needs to be released - often clearing out old emotions too overwhelming to face in the light of day.

Other times dreams provide us a glimpse of the future - or a key piece of information. A friend of mine recently had some precious jewelry stolen, after months of wondering who did it, her deceased mother appeared to her in a dream and told her. It was confirmed later that day.

At the level of spirit we are all connected. You can communicate with your higher self or loved ones, dead or alive, through your dreams while your ego is fast asleep. I think I'll request some adventure tonight!

This past weekend I attended the San Francisco Writer's Conference. The experience was enriching beyond all expectation. Most of the writers who attended were from the Bay area, which has always been a mecca for writers - think Berkeley... More recently it has attracted more publishing houses, which makes it a natural choice for a conference like this.

I must admit, I was a little nervous because I didn't know what writers were like! Even though I am a writer myself, I have spent more time in spiritual and healing circles than with writers. I was pleasantly surprised. Writers are some of the most grounded, yet open people I have ever met. It makes sense, to be a successful writer you have to be disciplined and grounded as well as creative.

What I hadn't considered was how healthy they would be! Writing clears out the psyche. So here we were, staying at the Mark Hopkins on top of Nob Hill, with hundreds of expressive, and often eccentric, writers from the Bay area and beyond.

I participated in a poetry reading, met lots of great contacts and walked up and down Nob Hill each morning for a proper cup of coffee. The only downside to the whole trip is my sore legs.

This past week I received my manuscript back from the agent who provided lots of feedback - suggestions for making it better. It threw me for a loop. I think I was expecting a response something like, "The book is brilliant, we'll have it published in no time!"

It reminds me that there needs to be a balance between heaven and earth. I tend to live up high, inspired by spirit and overflowing with optimism. In the world of spirit, things are done the moment they are conceptualized. In this world however, time is a factor, as is concrete work.

Today I remind myself that my feet are on the ground and that instant manifestation of my dreams is not necessary - may not even be that fun if you think about it. The agent acted as my earth. For that I am grateful.

This past weekend was filled with the inspiration of a man named Michael Franti. Michael is a Reggae/hip hop musician and activist for peace and ONE LOVE. Friday night I saw him in concert and Sunday night I went to a screening of a movie he just released called, "I know I'm Not Alone."

Dismayed by the superficiality of the media, Michael took his guitar and a few friends to Iraq, and then to Israel and Palestine, to talk to the people and soldiers about their experiences. What struck me about the film is that no matter who Michael was talking to (really listening to...) he heard the same message: "We want peace".

The beauty for me was that the humanity of every side was honored. He managed to drop below the level of issues to the level of feelings and in doing so, opened the hearts and minds of many who were previously "stuck" in a position.

This is spirituality in action. Pro communication, pro love, pro peace, pro unity. I feel grateful to have learned so much about the world and people in it over the past three days. If any of you are interested in viewing the film, you can visit www.iknowimnotalone.com.

Some of you know that when it comes to music I'm still sixteen... Last summer my entire family spent a week on the beach. I happened to be listening to Fifty Cent on my portable CD player (my brother-in-law has since given me an iPod). The family was teasing me about the nasty lyrics - particularly the song, "Just a lil bit" - My dad wanted to hear what all the fuss was about so he had a listen. He's a hip sort of guy and found himself getting his groove on.

The other night we were at dinner and someone said something about eating a little bit and my dad turned to me and said, "Just a lil bit has a whole new meaning doesn't it...?"

I haven't stopped laughing since.