Exceptional A New Beginning...Another Year by Spiritual Echo      Meet with Muse on New Year's Eve Contest Winner

It wasn't a she, and yet for years, I thought about my muse as the epitome of femininity. I imagined that she would float into my consciousness in a swirl of gossamer and the scent of lilacs. Everything I was not. Yet, on the night that my muse invited me to join him for a farewell tribute to another year, I felt a great deal of apprehension. Was I really courageous enough to face the person who I'd buried so many years ago? That he had to filter down through my dreams and in keystrokes on the computer, seemed a shallow acknowledgement of the potential I once embraced. The invitation was hardly courteous. In fact, it was a command performance. I shuffled and strutted, playing mind games, imagining what one wore to such an encounter. The meeting was to take place on New Year's Eve, not in some exotic location, but rather, just outside my door. I showered, fluffed and prepared. Somehow I knew that this meeting would change everything. My fear of casting aside the familiar, the pain and tragedies of being me, was muddied by a nagging threat of who I might, could have been, if only I listened. I wore the power suit, the one I bought in Bloomingdales on my last trip to New York; the thousand dollar off-white designer number that screamed 'I can afford it', at least that day. I dyed my hair, making sure that the grey was concealed and blasted blush and bronzers across my cheekbones to appear less than a fossil. I walked towards the door, felt the presence beyond, and I trembled. I only needed to turn the handle, but, I was terrified. I collapsed in fear and in shame, because I knew that outside my narrow perspective, beyond the Wal-Mart welcome mat, my muse would see through all the pretentions. For a long while I sat on the floor on my side of truth. I felt the warmth seep through the armour, the shield that protected me from the elements. Finally I rose and cast a glance in the hall mirror, trying to reassure myself that I'd done the best I could and began to cry. I took off the suit, stripped naked and ran to the bathroom to scrub off the drug store make-up. I flung open the door and prepared to die. Instead, I felt his arms encircle me, capturing my fear, arrogance and vulnerability, and he whispered in my ear. "Welcome home." Meet with Muse on New Year's Eve Contest Winner Recognized

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