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      I enjoy listening to people speak. Sometimes it's not what they say, but how they say it that inspires me to ponder whether I want to laugh or to cry. It's sometimes difficult for me to decide. During a discussion with a columnist, for example, I'd thought I heard her suggest, "Take time to breathe. You're working too hard. Relax." Oh! I hadn't considered that; I didn't seem to have time.

      A resolution I had in mind: 1995 is going to different from 1994. I know, it's fairly general and very broad. Yet, I thought, "It's a sure thing." It's a resolution that could definitely prove successful, no matter what occurs throughout the year.

      Then, I set my mind on selecting a specific resolution; I made plans to take a brief break. I thought, "I need to 'Take time to breathe.'" Oops! I forgot: Life may happen in-between intention and fruition. A goal is a good thing to have in mind, yet it make take time to reach. Life happens and plans change. Now, I know, I could cry or take it in stride. I've realized that it's far less stressful to appreciate flexibility. It's impossible for me to predict everything that may happen in life.

      See, I learned from experience. Yes, I've been through something similiar in the past. Last year and the year before that. The past three, really. Take 1993, for instance; I was preparing to travel to a business conference in Texas. San Antonio, actually. I had a destination. I also had goals.

      I told the person making all the travel arrangements what my plans were: "No hotel room on the first or second floor. No room above the seventh floor." I considered it crime prevention and disaster preparedness; I'd hoped to avoid a possible break-in on a lower floor and to minimize a broken-bone count, in the event a fire broke out on a higher floor and I'd need to jump from a window or balcony. "The fifth floor would be nice," I confessed.

      I thought I'd arrive at the hotel, have time to rest, then hear Larry King speak. He was doing the opening address. Nope. Didn't happen. I learned a few nights before I was scheduled to leave from Sacramento that the person making the reservations had a different agenda: He didn't care for Larry King. He arranged for our group to arrive at the airport in San Antonio five minutes after the opening address would commence. But he made sure that he would arrive in advance; he left for San Antonio a day before everyone else.

      Pleased... I was not. I likened the upset to walking into a theater after a movie had started. It's just not the same. I voiced my disappointment, then bought a book. Hey, I needed something to take my mind off the possibility that the plane might actually crash! I'd picked up a copy of Real Magic: Creating Miracles in Everyday Life by Dr. Wayne W. Dyer. I felt the need to read about someone else having discovered a miracle or two, since I sure didn't seem to have seen any!

      I read some of the book during the flight, arrived in San Antonio, and made a miracle happen. Well, maybe it wasn't really a miracle. but another change in plans; I asked for a different hotel room. I didn't think that could happen since I knew that former President George Bush and Barbara Bush were also scheduled to arrive at the hotel for the conference, and the hotel rooms had been reserved well in advance. I ended up with a room on the top floor, the thirty-eighth, I think. I knew, at that point, that George and Barbara weren't staying in the Presidential suite! The floors - several below mine, were reserved for the former President's entourage. My travel companions were puzzled: How did I garner such a grand room? I knew. I'd asked!

      I think it was the following morning that I'd planned to do brunch with a bunch of people; Barbara was gong to speak about literacy in America. Another miracle was about to happen. Uh-huh. I went to the conference room early, stood in line and waited for the doors to open. I didn't want to miss a thing. But other people had the same idea as mine. I was separated from the person who made our seating arrangements, and couldn't find the designated table. I'd tried to sit with other people, but they rejected me. There were all these chairs - empty - and yet they were reserved, for latecomers.

      I discovered a table with other people who also appeared sort of alone. (Rejected, too!) But, as it turned out, we had the best table in the room. We were next to Secret Service, the safest spot in the place. And a couple of tables away? Barbara Bush! I listened and watched and contemplated: How does this question and answer concept work? I'd thought of a question to ask Barbara. I just didn't know how to present the question without getting myself shot. It took children, who were there, less time to figure it out. No miracle there!

      After I'd seen how a Q & A session worked in a setting with heightened security, I was prepared. I went to a luncheon where George talked. He said, "I'll take five or six questions." Ah-oh! My chances were slim. There were all these men... asking strictly political questions. I asked men at my table to pitch my question. Their expressions? Well, they looked at me like something was missing in my head. I thought, "Maybe it's a dumb question." But my heart was pounding, and I knew it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. How many times would I find myself in the same room as a former world leader? I raised my hand. A miracle! No, the miracle was not that I indicated I wanted a turn... The mircophone died shortly after I began speaking!

      It wasn't the end of the world. George immediately went into a stand-up comedy routine; he was telling a joke while he waited for someone to bring me a new microphone. I caught myself laughing at his joke and realized I hadn't panicked. I was there (and hadn't lost my mental faculties on the way!); I had presence of mind.

      I'd never pictured myself standing in front of thousands of people asking anyone any question, let alone the former President. It felt like a highlight. The group I'd gone with couldn't believe that I'd actually do it. Neither could I. I thought it was a miracle.

      But I realized it wasn't. That evening I was introduced to a woman who helped me see that true miracles are around every day of my life: People. The miracles are the people I've met....

      I think the most dependable resource rests within each person - our inner-strength or resolve. We have to know and understand ourselves before it becomes possible for others to enhance our lives. It's our strengths that help us survive. I don't rely on weaknesses when faced with new challenges; I draw from my strengths.

      Life isn't predictable. Sometimes things happen that I didn't expect or anticipate. There's no way to change something once it's happened. The only thing I know how to do is, find a resolution that doesn't compromise who I am: My beliefs and values. To help myself or to seek the assistance I may need, I have to know and understand myself before if becomes possible for others to offer their support.

      When I was in college, for example, I'd spent numerous weeks working with other student journalists on reports concerning a financial crisis the campus was experiencing. It was ugly - the interviewing processes, the research efforts, the reporting. Administrators and faculty were embroiled in bitter debates and placing blame with one another. Everyone appeared to have an agenda, a message that needed a forum. It seemed that everyone went to meetings of all sorts, but it was the board meetings that were the most difficult to attend.

      I'd sit in the back of a room, where everyone knew who I was and why I was there. I listened to people lie to one another. If it came down to whose position needed to be eliminated or whose job description needed revision, it was always some other person just a few short hours before. Put those same people in a boardroom together and suddenly no one was responsible for misappropriating resources - millions of dollars. I didn't like what I witnessed: Hypocrisy in action.

      I'd give written accounts of meetings and interviews, and, soon, faculty members were stopped in the hallways, where campus administrators attempted intimidating college personnel to interrupt to flow of information. And, after some time, other students quit attending the board meetings with me. I went, and felt certain that I'd find myself sitting alone. Most faculty members were afraid of being seen near me, especially in a boardroom where it would be rather apparent.

      But there was one man - my former business instructor and my faculty adviser-mentor - who didn't think twice about sitting next to me. Until then, I felt alone in a room where the tension was ever-so present. I started wondering why I went. I wasn't a requisite; I could've assigned someone else. It would've been easier.

      The reason had become quite clear as the one instructor sat near me. It was time for the Pledge of Allegiance. He turned to me and whispered: "What's in your heart is most important. There's only one person who knows how you feel inside. That's what counts. Always be true to yourself."

      Had I not known and understood my beliefs, then he couldn't have known me and the words to offer that would be of value to me at a time when I felt isolated in a room filled with people. He trusted that he knew me, and that I would appreciate his support.

      At the following board meeting, people weren't avoiding me like the most dreaded disease that ever hit the planet. It took only one person to make a tremendous difference. To me, that was a miracle.

      When a course I'd set my mind on suddenly changes or takes a turn that I hadn't planned on, I'm probably no different from many people: I feel a range of emotions. Then, I do as the columnist suggested: Take time to breathe, then assess everything. Finding perspective is important. Resolution comes from having some type of perspective. I focus on the miracles tucked inside - things people say and do that make an impression and enable me to know my own heart. I understand my strengths: People and experiences influencing my life in a positive way. Surviving has some direction.

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