Emotions

Barbara Ehrenreich is a super-sober author. Her bestselling books include “Bait and Switch: The (Futile) Pursuit of the American Dream,” “Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America,” “Fear of Falling: The Inner Life of the Middle Class,” and “The Worst Years of Our Lives: Irreverent Notes from a Decade of Greed.”

After my husband died, I spent a year alone on our farm before I sold it and had to leave. Neighbours, friends and family, especially my daughter and stepson were kind, caring and respectful of my solitude. Days alone in my big garden were painfully sad, beautiful and reflective.

“A psychologically-induced, trance-like state, where a person may regress from a stressful situation.” Born less than five miles from Disneyland, I’m preternaturally drawn to happy places. During my troubled teen years, the Magic Kingdom’s Main Street Electrical Parade was my first taste of “collective effervescence,” the sublime experience of feeling less separated and more connected to others while witnessing awe and wonder.

I was once called “the daring crossing guard at the treacherous intersection of psychology and business.” Someday, I hope to walk on stage for a speech with a day-glow orange vest and STOP sign. No doubt, having a sense of humor reacquaints us with our humanity.

Things are going better than I imagined. I am trying to keep my wits about me as this town is so seducing. Sarasota’s stark beauty, blue skies and mountainous cloud ranges are sneaky sirens calling me back. But this time, I know what lies beneath.

Brain fog. Cog fog. Call it what you want. I’ve got it. At least for the last few weeks. Entrepreneurs often say they eat their own dog food. At MEA, Christine, Jeff, and I have binged on our growth mindset food. And, maybe that has led me to my recent bout with “cog fog.”

Time and turbulence are natural teachers. Church-going folk are now drawn to their preachers. Nature is my balm for sublime uncertainty. The ocean, my habitat for divine convergency.

Have you ever been asked, “What three people—historical or present—would you invite to your ideal dinner party?” Well, it probably says a lot about my desperate need for a therapist that my top three would be psychologists: Abe Maslow, Viktor Frankl, and Carl Jung.

When the 9/11 tragedy happened, it was 6 am in San Francisco. I was awoken by a panicked call from my friend Janine who was on the east coast and could barely speak. I spent the day in my bathrobe in our construction zone of a home with my partner Donald and a couple dozen construction workers glued to the TV. The day is seared into my heart as everything changed so suddenly, horrifically.

In a world awash in websites and screen time, the value of IRL (In Real Life) connection will become more apparent in the next year. At the same time, new habits have formed, and how we do business may have become forever altered.