"I bend down and sort of squat over the cold, bare earth that moments before had been covered with snow. As my hands begin to sweep over the ground, it is as though they have developed a life of their own, I remember the night of the accident and that energy of “need” that brought the boys, and as they disappear, I feel a tug on the palm of my hand and I stop and increase that feeling of “need and tug” and the sand beneath my hand begins to shake and vibrate like something alive is digging its way out. Suddenly the tug on the palm ceases, and as I look down, there is a small gold nugget under my hand."

"Thoughts of creating something very different in my life used to be drowned out by the voices in my head saying, “Oh no, what would people say?!” Now I choose what’s right for me and let other people’s judgment flow through me or by me, as if I were a steady rock in a stream."