I had an especially good day today. I got up at 4 a.m. to work on my book – this is going to be my practice for the next couple of weeks – I wrote a chapter my editor loved. I have six more to go.

I saw this morning just how much the distractions of the world – mail, messages, phone, chores – have ruined my book writing discipline.

At that hour, there are no distractions, and I felt as if I was writing a song. There are many lessons there.

Then I went to have the meeting that has upended me this week. I feared the return of the Wolfman, I’ve been writing about it for several days, but he didn’t show up, I had the feeling he left. I did come on strong until I noticed the wide eyes of everyone in the room, and then things settled down. I said what was bothering me, I said what I needed, we talked about my friend.

It was not the confrontation I expected, there were a series of misunderstandings exacerbated the difficulties of digital communication. No one should every try to resolve anything online, I think it is making people crazy. Everyone in the room was  a good person, trying their best to do a good job.

Things were resolved, and my friend is fine, he can take care of himself.

I think the Wolfman got tired of me and moved away. He has had little to do these past few years.

At the meeting, I decided to take a break from  feeling aggrieved and angry, from being prickly and judgmental, from looking for fights and thinking about winning, about telling my sad story and seeking redress.

I let other people talk, I listened to them, I tried to empathize with them and see things from their point of view. I saw that I have new tools now, it really wasn’t like the old days, today was not the time to recite my complaints or soothe my bruised ego, not the time to demand apologies or explanations.

I stopped this crusade in my head, I thought of Maria and Gus and the dogs and my photography. Against all odds, I stopped this campaign, and I saw that I was different, I had changed, there was an empty space where the Wolfman used to be, it was full of wildflowers and Poppies, all set against the morning sun.

I got myself back, he was never really gone.

So what’s the catch?

There is no catch.

Anne Lamott says all one has to do in order to begin again is to love mercy. And when I sat in the meeting, I loved mercy, and experienced the joy of  revelation. In her book about mercy, Hallelujah Anyway, she describes the experience this way:

“Then creation begins to float by,  each new day. Sometimes its beauty, cherries, calm, or hawks; sometimes it’s forebearance, stamina, eyeglass wipes, apricots, aspirin, second winds.”

For me it was different, sometimes it’s the sunrise, or the dog running out to the pasture to bring the sheep into the barn, or the beams of light streaming through the canopy of the trees in the deep woods, or the floppy brown hat Maria loves so much, or the sight of Maria in her wedding dress, hauling manure across the barnyard, or photographer’s light in the early morning or late day, or the wild Irises up in the meadow, or little Gus trotting along behind her, so full of himself, the farm dog.

My mind went to what matters, and argument and anger are not what matters.  So where is the Wolfman anyway, he lived with me for a long time and he was always sad and mournful, I hope he finds his way  back to life.

Oh, and I almost forget. Maria was off to her belly dancing class late this afternoon and I felt good, buoyed by the chapter I wrote – I knew it was good, I could feel it – and so I went to see Spiderman, which I much enjoyed. And had a small popcorn with some real butter.

I have always loved sitting in a movie theater by myself, munching my popcorn snug in this rare island of quiet and anonymity. I always felt safe in a theater.

I liked the movie very much. A surprisingly sweet movie – the explosions were restrained and creative – about growing up in grace.

it was a good day.