INFP: The Romantic Hero

I’m almost finished with my next book. I’m not sure which title to use: INFP: The Romantic Hero or INFP: The Romantic Healer.

Here’s what it’s about:

The Romantic Hero is a celebration of the INFP’s richness and intensity. It is about the consequences of his preferences and how he can avoid the emotional turmoil that accompanies living in the shade. It is an exploration of his individualism, his quest for truth and authenticity, his compassion, and his keen conceptual awareness as well as his struggles and his many contradictions. It is a discussion of the reasons for his loneliness and the ways to appreciate his “gifts differing”. Its purpose is to help INFP’s who may be feeling lost and alone to feel liberated and extraordinary. It is written to assist him on his own life journey and especially, to view his attributes as the gifts Myers and Briggs intended the profiles to provide.


Imagery Deficit Disorder

I fell the other day while entering my house with groceries in hand. Sign from the universe? Of course. But what does it mean when you go down? It would be a lot easier to interpret signs like these if that inner voice with all the answers was louder. Did it mean stop? Pay attention? Take care of yourself? Rest? Stop complaining about your small house and learn to love it? I’m not really sure, as it could mean any of those things given my current situation.

That’s the problem with interpreting signs as warnings. If you get the intended message, there is a great feeling of relief and gratitude. If you don’t get the message readily, you add doubt to the problem the  message is pointing you to.

There are a lot of New Age discussions out there about this sort of thing–that you invite the circumstances of your life by thinking in certain ways. You know, “That which is like unto itself is drawn” would be how Abraham, Esther Hick’s spiritual guides, would put it. You get what you think about and I believe it’s true. However, it’s hard not to over-think the meaning of the signs. Exactly which thoughts led to my broken rib? There’s a lot of them swirling around in my head.

To get the message sent by the universe, you are advised by spirit guides to seek the counsel of your higher self by clearing the cluttered mind and waiting for the answer to come. Imagining white light is supposed to help. Ohmm’ing a note or two puts you up in the higher realms as well. I’ve done all those things. But, you know what? I rarely hear an inner voice. Don’t get me wrong. I believe in all this stuff. I just haven’t come across anyone who talks about how hard it is.

I’m re-reading the Sanaya Roman books. Orin suggests, to know your life purpose, imagine yourself entering the library containing your Akashic Records, find your book, open it, and the words will be there, defining your path.  My page has been blank for a week. Maybe this is why I fell?

I do hope my spirit guide has a sense of humor because I think it’s time those of us who fall down on our spiritual paths, break a rib, and can’t figure out which metaphysical message to pick get some attention. Maybe I should write one of those “10 Best” books next. How about “Top Ten Signs You’ve Misinterpreted Signs from the Universe”? A little wordy, but I can work on it. Or maybe I could coin a trendy new phrase–“Imagery Deficit Disorder”.

Anyway, to all those soul-seekers out there who do believe but dare to admit their mystical mediocrity, I invite you to share the honest and hilarious stories of your acausal disconnections. Hope I don’t fall down laughing.

Lots of Love!




from Dead Mentors

Part Two, Chapter 1: “The Antiquity”

I imagined Sophia’s return to Florida like that of a migratory bird. I often saw her that way, drifting from Florida to Peterborough and back as if guided by the angle of the sun, a snowbird from Canada, a tropical bird from Florida, trying to find the light. The duality of Sophia’s nature was a delightful mix of seasoning and sensing, a veritable astrological configuration of Libra’s balanced scales. What is lovliest and typical of the Libran’s preference is the slight tilt of equilibrium–they are never too far to one side and never directly in the middle. Extremes are never tolerated by the Libran, including stark symmetry. To know them is to be utterly confused by them.

Sandra Nichols

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Victoria Park from “Dead Mentors”

Mother and Moon

The forest that rests deep inside Victoria Park is my favorite
place in the city of Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island.
Th e stillness there unwinds my tangled thoughts. In September,
the path is laced with color, beckoning the weariest of dispositions
to take heed of the park’s aged splendor. It is the humbling power
of nature’s silence that grants its authority over my senses like the
Wise Old Woman of Sophia’s dreams. I am a visitor of minute
awareness amidst its solemn grace and unspeakable beauty. To
ponder, even briefly, to begin to take note consciously amid such
elegant simplicity is an act of dishonor. It is there for the senses
only, for the deep roots of life’s core to silence human triviality.
Th ere are many such places on a quiet island, places where nature
is salvaged. Each one is a depiction of change and growth and
death, displayed with blatant disregard for human frailty. My
walks in Victoria Park paid homage to nature itself, not to my
From “Dead Mentors” Fifth Chapter, Mother and Moon