I recently took my friend, Jim, to a social function. There were about a hundred people milling about. It was a Book Fair. There were writers in attendance and people who love reading and discussing books generally.

I conversed with many people but Jim just tagged along not saying more than one or two words!

Then we sat down for lunch at a table with eight people. We were all chatting but Jim was mute! I asked him afterward what was wrong? Didn’t he enjoy the Book Fair?

It all came out, he told me about his shyness and social anxiety. I had to help him.

“I find it difficult to contribute to the conversation,” said Jim.

“Well, Jim, you need some social confidence so you will be fulfilled in your life.”

“How do I get that?” he said quizzically.

“First, you have to Know Yourself. You must know who you are so you can have the courage to live, speak and act with confidence. It’s an evolutionary process, you are constantly in a state of “becoming.”

“How do I start knowing myself?”

“Well, my friend, you have to know the ropes in order to pull the strings. Here are the ropes:

Pay attention to yourself in your present moments. Be aware of what you say and do and how you interact with others.”

“I can do that, I guess.”

“Good, then you will learn about your personality. Also, try to understand your unique qualities and traits.”

“I know some of those,” he said.

“Next, know your strengths and weaknesses. Accept yourself and try to improve. Grow everyday and learn more about your passions, what you enjoy doing.”

“I still get scared when I’m in a large group.”

“You can conquer your fear and use it to motivate yourself to do what you want to accomplish. Act in the face of fear.”

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t be afraid to go out on a limb because that’s where the fruit is.”

“I find I usually have to think twice before I speak consequently I don’t get into the conversation!”

“People will think you’re an intelligent talker if you just nod your head in agreement with what they are saying. That’s my little joke, just to lighten the situation,” I said smiling.

“I tend to go into a shell when I’m with people.”

“You have to be bold and strong forces will come to your aid!”

“How do I develop these skills?”

“Introduce yourself at social gatherings and talk about what you’re interested in, your passions.”

Jim looked apprehensive.

“Make eye contact, show interest in others. It’s a two way street, you talk and then you listen. Ask questions.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Open-ended ones that require more than a one or two word answer. Such as: What do you think about…or How did you get into that line of work?”

“I think I’m getting your drift,” said Jim.

A week later I took Jim to another function. He was completely transformed. He was constantly talking to everyone on the table. I sat there gobsmacked!

“Dave, what’s wrong, you’re not talking!

I shook my head.

“You’ve got a glazed look in your eyes,” said Jim.

“Yes I have, that’s what happens when the conversation wanders away from me!”

I am a writer and one day while attending a literary lunch, I was seated at a table with four ladies.

Now, I had recently been fighting an extreme case of writer’s block and I felt that I had lost my MUSE!

These four ladies were all of a “certain age” as I am.

I thought: Could one of these ladies be my replacement MUSE?

One lady was a retired math teacher.

One lady was a retired doctor who was an anaesthetist.

One lady was a Merry Widow.

And her friend, was just Merry!

“Ladies, I am looking for a new MUSE. I am considering one of you for the job!”

They all looked at me in amazement!

The retired math teacher said: “That sounds interesting.”

The retired anaesthetist said: “Well, I could put you to sleep and you would feel no pain.”

The Merry Widow said: “I’m up for it, anything for some excitement.”

And finally, Merry said: “What exactly is a MUSE?”

“Well, it’s an inspirational force, usually personified by a woman, that keeps a creative artist full of energy and ideas.”

All the ladies said they would love to be my MUSE.

The retired anaesthetist said: “What would we have to do?”

“You will have to keep me writing by supplying the words that I need. I always need lots of words!”

Everyone seemed to be in agreement that they could fill me with energy and supply lots of words for me. So I folded up four pieces of paper, three were blank, and one said: “You’re my MUSE!”

I put the bits of folded paper in a bag and each lady drew one.

I wondered who would win.

The next thing I knew I was asleep with my pen in my hand!!!

While checking my social network sites, I ran across something absolutely mystifying! I received a comment with a picture of my mother! The comment was: How have you been son in the last 40 years!

I replied: I’ve been reasonably happy, thank you.

What am I doing? Am I going crazy?

My mother has been dead for 40 years. This is impossible! But there was her picture and comment staring me in the face! Was someone playing a joke on me?

So I replied back asking this person only questions my mother would know the answers to. The answers came back promptly. They were all exactly correct!

So I replied: Wonderful to talk to you again Mom.

The reply came back: Have you accomplished what you wanted to in life son? I remember you wanted to be a writer.

I replied: Yes, Mother, you remembered correctly. I finally accomplished it in my retirement. I have a blog and two books out.

Mom replied: I’m so proud of you, my Son. Remember when you were a boy and I told you to mind your manners, they might come back in style someday.

I replied: Yes, Mom, I remember. You always were one to joke around.

Mom replied: You used to be so timid. Are you standing on your own two feet now?

I replied: Oh yes, Mom, I remember you saying to me that I can’t lean on you always. You made me strong so I could take care of myself.

Mom replied: Oh Son, I thought you were the only perfect child in the world, but of course every mother has one.

I replied: Is there some reason why you contacted me now, after all these years?

The reply came back quickly: Well Son, I’ve been waiting in this line leading up to the Pearly Gates and I’m finally here. Your father is further back.

I asked: It took 40 years to get to the end of the line?

Mom replied: Yes, it’s a very long line! Well, anyway, the chap at the gate now says he’s lost our marriage certificate and he can’t let us in without it!

I replied: What do you want me to do?

Mom replied: I need you to email me a copy via attachment. The email address is: annie@pearlygates.co.heaven.

I emailed the certificate immediately. It’s good I saved all of my parent’s documents!

Mom replied: Thanks Son, your father and I are in! We will check out your two books. By the way, the three people that I got friendly with behind me in line were impressed by your writing career when I told them! I’m signing off now, I love you Son—Click and my Mother was gone!

That night I checked my sales figures and I had sold five more books! This was great! Sales from cyberspace!

Now, I wonder if my Grandparents will contact me from cyberspace?

I have a comfortable lounge couch in my study that resembles a psychiatrist’s couch. One day I was having writer’s block and I felt extremely tired. So I laid down on the couch and fell asleep.

I had this dream: I was marooned on an uninhabited island. Then I saw this raft appear with this beautiful woman on it drifting in the gentle sea breeze. She was wearing a grass skirt and fig leaves were covering her breast. She was waving to me to swim out to her.

She was curvaceous and long legged, her hair was long and midnight black. Her jade-green eyes were boring a hole through to my soul. She had pouting lips and they were sultry and succulent! Naturally I jumped into the sea and swam out to the raft.

When I got to the raft the beautiful woman had turned into the Grim Reaper! He was a hooded figure with flowing black robes and of course he had a scythe!

The Reaper said:

“Are you ready?”

I said, as I was floating in the water:

“Am I going to die soon?”

The Reaper nodded.

“I want a second opinion,” I demanded.

The next thing I knew, I was in a psychiatrist’s dimly lit office and reclining on his couch. The doctor was an old bearded man with bushy eyebrows, dark penetrating eyes, a falcon’s nose, and I couldn’t see his mouth because of the beard. He had a soothing voice:

“Tell me about your dream.”

I told him about the island and the beautiful woman turning into the Reaper. He stroked his beard.

“What’s the dream mean, Doc?” I stammered.

“Well, a deserted island means you spend too much time alone. As far as the woman and the Reaper, it means stay away from beautiful women, they could be hazardous to your health!”

“Doc, I need to know how I can nullify this nightmare?”

“Have good thoughts before you go to bed.”

He started laughing in a wicked way and then he became the hooded figure!

I woke up in a cold sweat back in my study. I thought:

“I certainly don’t want to have that nightmare again!”

I better stick to my AMERICAN DREAM: driving a BRITISH sports car, smoking a HAVANA cigar, and drinking RUSSIAN vodka on the FRENCH RIVIERA!

I was out for my daily constitutional walk, when I passed a strange house. I stopped in my tracks!

The windows were covered with webs and the glass was so filthy it was impossible to see inside the house. There was a sign on the door: Horoscopes, Come In And Learn Your Future! I was intrigued.

I walked up to the door, but before I knocked, I thought, I wonder who will come to the door? Maybe, a witch, with warts and grey, white hair, one that is very ugly. I’ve heard of people being turned into rabbits by witch’s spells!

I shook my head and knocked. The door opened and there stood a beautiful woman. She was tall and willowy. Her hair was mercury-red and it tumbled over her bare shoulders. She had blue eyes and pouting red lips. She was dressed in a long gothic gown that reached to the floor.

“Come in,” she said in a soothing voice.

She sat me down on a red sofa in a dark lounge. She sat opposite me in a red armchair. I glanced around the room and noticed a large caldron in the fireplace.

“So, you would like to know your future?”

“Yes, I would,” I mumbled.

“It will cost you a fiver.”

I gave her the money.

“Why do you want to know about your future?”

“Well, I would like to be reassured it will be good,” I said stammering.

She smiled.

Now, I noticed the fire was going and the caldron was bubbling softly.

“Just making some soup,” she said, noticing my concern.

I was starting to sweat!

“Do you believe in astrology?”

“Sort of, I am naturally superstitious.”

She reached out and took my hand in both of her soft hands. She raised her slender eyebrows and looked me in the eye. Her eyelashes were long and velvety. The experience was surreal!

“You are connected to the entire cosmos,” she said squeezing my hand.

But then she frowned and said:

“But the stars are telling me some strange information about you. You will live long and happily eating leafy greens and vegetables!”

“What’s that all about?” I shouted.

All of a sudden the caldron started steaming. The red haired lady was staring at me like she was putting a spell on me!

I snatched my hand away from her and ran out of the house.

Once out, I noticed I was HOPPING DOWN THE STREET!

I was mingling at the Literary Lunch and I sat down at a table with an interesting looking bunch of people.

“May I sit here?” I said.

“Be our guest,” said the blond woman.

There were four other men at the round table.

“I’m Writer Dave,” I said.

“My name is Marilyn,” said the blonde.

“I’m Thomas,” said the long grey haired gent with the dark suit and high collar white shirt.

“My name is Walt,” said the non-descript man.

“I’m Winston,” said the chubby fellow.

“I’m Jack,” said the young man with the thick head of hair.

“We were just talking about differences of opinion, Dave, and I said, I’ve never considered a difference of opinion in politics, religion, or philosophy, a reason for withdrawing from a friend,” said Thomas.

Then Walt spoke up, “I’ve never lost a friend I wanted to keep.”

“Well, I feel if we listened to other opinions beside our own, we just might learn something,” I chimed in.

“I remember I was once with a woman who intimidated I was drunk and she looked down her nose at me. So, I said, I may be drunk, madam, but in the morning I will be sober and you will still be ugly!” smiled the chubby Winston.

We all laughed.

“Too often we enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought,” said young Jack.

“I think that is very true,” I said.

“You gentlemen are all very erudite. My opinion is, I don’t mind living in a man’s world as long as I can be a woman in it,” said Marilyn.

We all smiled and raised our eyebrows.

Jack winked at Marilyn, like he knew her before.

“Well, with your looks, I don’t think you’ll be spending much time alone,” said Jack.

“I restore myself when I’m alone,” said Marilyn seriously.

“I’m a gossip columnist,” said Walt, “And I write stories about women like you!”

Marilyn scowled and said, “Dogs never bite me-just humans.”

“Oh Walt, that’s one for Marilyn,” said Winston.

There was silence for a minute while we all sipped our drinks.

Then Winston continued, “Enemies, you have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for something, you’ve stood your ground, sometime in your life.”

“Here, here,” said Thomas, “In matters of style, swim with the current; in matters of principle, stand like a rock.”

“I write about gossip and gossip is the art of saying nothing in a way that leaves practically nothing unsaid,” said Walt, looking at Marilyn.

Marilyn glared at Walt and said, “I like some men’s company but some I can’t stand.”

Walt laughed, “She’s been on more laps than a napkin!”

“That’s one for you Walt,” said Winston.

“Is this a sort of game, where you keep score?” I said.

“Come on, lets all be friends. Forgive your enemies, but never forget their names,” said Jack, smiling at Marilyn.

“The glow of one warm thought is to me worth more than money,” said Thomas.

“That’s very true,” I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Looking at Walt, Marilyn said, “I don’t mind people making jokes, but I don’t like people to try to make me one!”

“Come on, Marilyn, give us something to write about,” laughed Walt.

“Okay, I will. So, you want to know what I wear in bed? Why, Chanel No. 5 perfume, of course!”

The whole table roared with laughter!

It was then I noticed all the place cards on the table. I was in the company of Thomas Jefferson, Winston Churchill, JFK, Walter Winchell and of course, Marilyn Monroe!

I was gobsmacked! And then I woke up!