I’ve decided that Rudolph is really a normal deer who has a very bad cold.  Which makes him even that more admirable considering that he not only went to work on a moment’s notice, but pulled a sleigh loaded with an overweight guy and enough presents for every kid in the world at 30,000 feet.  I am definitely not a Rudolph.

I have come to this conclusion after catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror between sneezing fits and noticing that my once cute little schnoz has now taken on more of a WC Fields complexion.  Cute is definitely not a word that would remotely describe it now.  Neither would it describe my demeanor.  I may have the nose of the esteemed reindeer, but I certainly am not sporting his winning and willing spirit!  Instead of wallowing in the joy of the season, I am wallowing in self-pity.  My inner child is alive and well and throwing a major “it’s not fair!” tantrum.  As I sit home alone on day three of what was supposed to be a romantic snowed-in weekend, I am surrounded by boxes of tissues and every drug and homeopathic remedy I could find.  My thrill for the weekend was sitting in a steamroom at the YMCA. 

But back to Rudolph…   I remember as a kid reading our circa 1939 version of the story and being struck by three things:  One:  How creepy the pictures were, Two:  How mean the reindeer were to Rudolph, and Three:  How Santa never really seemed to care about him until he needed him.  (Perhaps I did have a bit of cynicism brewing in me at an early age….)  Reading it today I still think the pictures are creepy and so are the other reindeer, and I’m still not too thrilled with Santa’s not standing up for him sooner , but there is another take I have on this.  I am seeing Rudolph in a whole new light, if you’ll excuse the pun.  Here’s a guy sidled with something that made him an outsider, with seemingly no one there making it “ok” for him.  He tries to fit in by trying to cover up his “uniqueness” but that doesn’t work and he’s left feeling worse than ever.  And then that moment comes when he is given the opportunity to see that which he had thought of as his curse as truly his gift. And better yet, he sees how by using his gift, he can truly serve others.  His gift is really not an asset until he shares it. 

I still struggle with feeling like I need to figure out what my “gift” is.  This weekend I found that it is definitely not being a compassionate person when sick!  I still harbor a belief that my gift needs to be huge and significant and yet I see daily reminders that what makes a difference really are the little things:  clerks at Whole Foods singing along to the holiday sound track piped throughout the store and putting a smile on my face, getting a note from a cross-country friend wishing me well, or even a simple text message, sent merely to remind me that I am loved. 

As we move into yet another year in our lives, please know that your continued support of this newsletter and of me is truly one of my most precious gifts.  May you find your “Rudolph moment”, blessing others with the unique gift of you!  PS….After telling my daughter about this article she basically told me I’d better watch out (better not cry?), and to “stop hating” and start sending Santa some love!  I went back and re-read the book (pictures still creepy), but discovered that according to this version, Santa didn’t know Rudolph existed until he went to fill his stocking!  Therefore it was the 1960s TV version of Rudolph which gave the apparently inaccurate and unfortunate portrayal of Santa knowing of the abuse and doing nothing about it.  I stand corrected and beg the Big Man’s forgiveness.  Hopefully there will be more than coal in my stocking this year! 

 I was at a conference for women business leaders a couple of weeks ago listening to some very successful and respected women business owners talking about how to weather this economic storm.  It must have been about a third of the way into the day when that little voice inside my head suddenly woke up and said “You mean this isn’t just happening to me?!”  Now I consider myself to be an intelligent woman with a relatively global perspective on life but for some reason I was taking the sudden economic downturn personally.  As if the forces conspired when they saw I was starting a business and said “Ah, let’s see how much she can really take!”   

It makes me wonder what else I do that is wrapped up in that “it’s all about me” thinking.  Not that I’m asking for those who know me well to suddenly rush forward with substantiating evidence!  And unfortunately I don’t think I’m alone in this phenomenon.   In speaking of the economy, I have witnessed it on a regional basis over the past two years, where friends of mine in Michigan have been suffering for at least that long with what we here on the East Coast are just now experiencing.  I know people here that would look at news reports of economic struggles quizzically, as if it were happening on another continent, not within our own country.  Look at the issues of poverty or homelessness:  unless it is happening directly to you, it is difficult to grasp the global effect.    

On the other side of that coin, whatever happens to one affects the whole, even when it is good.  We tend to focus on the negative, but what about the positive trends?  The Olympics are a great example.  One person works very hard and achieves a goal and the country celebrates and shares in the pride and achievement.  There are millions of little “wins” happening all over the world daily and we can be a part of that celebration as well.  Or we can choose to focus on the losses and revel in our victimhood.   

I have seen these times become increasingly stressful and difficult for substantial numbers of people.  I feel the fear that is oozing around us, eager to gain a foothold.  And I have found myself sliding down that slippery slope into despair and gloom.   

But I have also seen that there is a reawakening of the creative spirit.  From the ashes I have seen amazing strength and ingenious solutions arise.  I am feeling an energy that is gaining momentum, a shift from self-reliance to holding out your hand and pulling each other up.  I have been infused with hope again and the prospect that although the road may be rocky, we’re still walking in the right direction.   

At this time of year when we reflect on all that we have and that for which we are grateful, the realization that it is not all about me is one to rank high on my list.  To realize I am part of something much bigger and that together we have incredible resources to pull us through is indeed a blessing.  I am grateful to all of you who in your own way have pulled me up.  May your path be full of extended hands as well. 

My new Canadian friend, Grace, gave me an inukshuk recently.  For you Americans not situated in Gov. Palin’s neck of the woods, an inukshuk is a statue or symbol originating from the Inuit culture and used as a means to guide or navigate.  But for me, even more of the appeal is that it is made out of rock.

I LOVE rocks!

From the rocky shores of Maine, to the secluded beaches in Martha’s Vineyard with their sea-smoothed stones, to the beautiful Petoskey stones in Northern Michigan, to an ordinary flat rock suitable for skipping across a pond, I just love them.  I’ve even been known to hug a boulder or two in my day.  And when my house sells and the movers start carrying out the boxes, I’m sure a couple will be scratching their heads, wondering what could be so heavy and thinking it feels like I’ve packed a bunch of rocks…because I have! 

  So I was thrilled when my boyfriend and I set off on a beautiful fall day to traipse up a mountain trail and take in the glorious fall scenery, only to discover the many rocks along the trail.  Nothing is more fun to me than leaping from one boulder to another, trying to figure out which is the more steady path to take.  

Have you ever heard the expression, “too much of a good thing”?

   As we continued on our trek, which had now shifted from a lovely day outing to a mission to be accomplished, the rocks increased in their numbers and decreased in size, causing one’s foot to roll and to lose balance with greater frequency.  I went from adoring these gifts of nature to cursing these worthless nuisances.  And they went on and on and on.  Now the walk was more of a race just to get to the blasted top so that we could take a break from all these miserable impediments!  The way down wasn’t any better.  For one, we were even more determined to end our travails and just wanted it to be over.  Forget that romantic notion of a leisurely stroll hand in hand….this was every man for himself (or herself).   

And then it happened.  They took me down. 

  I decided that I had 2 choices:  I could lay there and rue the day and my boyfriend and his ridiculous idea in the first place, or I could take a breath and enjoy my surroundings.  Here’s what it looked like from this new perspective:  I realized it was a beautiful day and that I was so focused on the negative of the experience that I was totally missing the positive.  The leaves were changing, the sky was blue, it was a serene environment, and life – in spite of the rocky road – was good.   I’ve been caught up in the pervasively creeping fear that has edged into seemingly every corner of life around me.  It’s easy to do.  It’s easy to stumble or fall on the path these days and even those who haven’t have seen enough who have and are worried for their own security and safety.  I didn’t realize it was becoming so ingrained in me until I spent a morning with a group of positively minded women, who stood out in sharp contrast to the negativity which had been slowly cloaking me.   

Sometimes it takes the proverbial fall to make us take notice.  It’s always our choice on the way we want to see things.  Who knew that those innocuous stones could really prove to be an inukshuk for me.   They pointed the way, forcing me to look up.  I can now see that although the way is rocky, there’s always a different perspective which allows you to see the beauty of the situation - even if you look ridiculous in the process.

It began innocently enough with the receipt of a beautiful email message which spoke gently of the power inherent in letting go.  How lovely, I thought – and then saved it because you just never know when it might be of value to someone else I know.  The “powers that be” must have split a gut laughing over that one! I get my life lessons presented to me not once, or even twice, but generally three times.  I think a good part of the reason is that I am so busy I tend to ignore the first, take a slight interest in the second instance, and have no choice but to deal with the third.  This time I must have been REALLY out of control because normally any one of them would have been an attention grabber.  Evidently I needed all three this time to really do the trick. I believe that getting that email was no coincidence.  My lesson at hand is learning to let go. I’m sitting in the airport right now, coming back from delivering my eldest to his college dorm to begin his college career.  Now this is the child who since maybe day 2 of his life has been a totally independent spirit.  He went off to summer camp at age 12 for month in the wilderness with no communication home.  He’s traveled internationally by himself.  He spent the last two years of high school 3000 miles away at a boarding school.  So when the boxes were moved and suitcases unpacked and it was finally time for the goodbyes, I was shocked when the tears welled up in my eyes.  Ok, they spilled over for a time as well.  For all the goodbyes we’ve said, this one was different.  It was saying goodbye to my little boy and watching him walk away as a young man. I’m getting all teary now just thinking about it.   Letting go of him, allowing him to transition to this next exciting stage of his life is scary and yet reaffirming.  Life is a series of these transitions and to hold one’s self or others back is to deny the full experience life has to give.  Just imagine the experiences he’ll have as he steps into this new space.  Actually, I’ll allow you to do that…there are some things a mother just shouldn’t imagine! So, that should be enough, right?  Nah.  I’m heading home to now say goodbye to my staff of the past year as I begin to shut down The Professional Women’s Center as we know it.  Life, the economy, an idea ahead of its time…whatever the reason, the result is the same.  As of October 31^st, we are closing our doors.  This decision to let go was fraught with copious amounts of anxiety, hours of soul-searching and numerous attempts at self-deception.  Ultimately it was when I was able to truly release any ego woven into a possible outcome that I was able to secure my answer and, thankfully, serenity about the decision.  The lesson was really a full circle one:  when I let go, just as I had when I started the process, things were able to flow and life got a whole lot easier.  Getting out of my way seems to be a big lesson in letting go for me. And lastly, just to complete the trifecta, I’ve put my home of the last 15 years on the market.  This is the house I’ve said I would never leave merely because I have too much junk to move.  I have learned there was absolute truth in that tongue in cheek statement.  Again, I thought I was good with this – until I had to start getting rid of old toys and mementos from the “good old days”.  I’ve realized how much of my life is woven into the fabric of this dwelling, not to mention the fact that it’s the only home that 2 of my 3 kids have ever known.  To learn that our “home” is really wherever we go, that things are merely reminders of memories but the memories are always within, and that we don’t need so much STUFF to be happy…these are lessons that are only beginning to be experienced and appreciated.   Letting go of one thing/thought/belief seems to start the unraveling of so many more.  And each knot that is loosened brings a little more breathing room and the space to grow in new and unknown directions.   I guess I’m grateful I’m so pig-headed that I need all this evidence to get the message.  I certainly would not have had this fire-hose of experience if I’d listened to that whisper of an email message.  I’m actually excited now for the first time in a long time about what may lay around the corner.  I’ve come to realize that you can’t embrace what life has to give you if you’re clenching on to past.  I’m ready to go forward into life with open hands, an open heart…and a much cleaner house!      

I’ve always been a vacation kind of gal.  You know those people who at the end of the year still have unused vacation days?  That has NEVER been me!  One of my favorite things about the beginning of a new year is being able to plan out my time off.  This is, however, not something I recommend bringing up in a job interview! A conversation I had recently with a friend reminded me of my first experience of vacationing with small children.  I remember the usual excitement of planning the trip, the thought of getting away from the normal routine, and the anticipation of relaxing with a good book by the pool, with the occasional nap thrown in for good measure.  Those of you who are parents can stop laughing now.  What I discovered is that the word “vacation” is a misnomer for those traveling with little ones:  it is really just life in a new location.  And with the disruption in routine, it can actually be more stressful than just staying at home!   Vacation to me has always been synonymous with “escape”.  That is why the book “Eat, Pray, Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert has been so wildly successful:  it chronicles one woman’s year long escape from reality by taking a series of amazingly adventuresome vacations around the world.  Even women I know who are happy in their career and home life harbor a secret desire to be able to leave it all behind, if just for a little while.   I loved the book and yes, would love to experience what Elizabeth did.  A few years back I would have given, well, perhaps my first born child for that chance!  But from where I sit today, the desire to escape is thankfully not paramount in my thinking.  Freedom is really what I desire and freedom, I have learned, has both external and internal components.  In our country we are free to do, say or go where we want, within reason.  And yet there is still a desire held by many to escape.  What they are focusing on is the external constraints of their life and wishing to be rid of their bondage.   Real freedom, however, comes not from external release but from an internal sense of serenity.  It’s the knowing that regardless of everything happening on the outside, inside all is well.  It is a state of being that people expend a great deal of time, energy and resources trying to achieve and yet it really takes none of those.  It is learning to escape not from your physical reality but from the expectations and machinations of your overactive mind.  It is not escape from the bondage of a job, a relationship, a routine or an environment which brings freedom:  it is the escape from the bondage of self.   I’m still looking forward to next year’s vacation and I relish any breaks from my routine which give me a chance to relax and breathe.  But gone is that urgency and desperate feeling of NEEDING to get away.  Now if I feel antsy or overwhelmed, I know I have a choice to continue to live in the meddlesome mind that created the anxiety or to take a mental vacation and pick a different scene on which to focus.  Escaping the self-imposed limitations of my mind proves to be a satisfying, enjoyable and more economically advantageous trip- and I don’t even have to ask for the day off!        

I experienced another “never say never” moment this week.  Up until then, if you had told me that I would willingly get up at 2:30am to drive to see the sunrise – on vacation – my reply would have included, amongst other things, NEVER!  But I have learned that the Universe does not hear the word “never”, so there I was.  Just like when I told my mother when graduating from college that I would NEVER live in New Jersey.  This year I celebrate my 20^th year here.  You think I would have learned…

Anyway, I was on vacation in Arizona, yet another “never” experience: “I will never go to Arizona in July!”  There was no question that I needed a vacation and my idea was a beach, cool breezes, and lots of dozing off.   So here I was, going to the Grand Canyon to experience the sunrise.  And yes, although that is an unfathomable time of day to travel anywhere, it was worth it.  Just me, my boyfriend….and a busload of Japanese tourists.  Oh well, at least it didn’t involve my needing to think about anything.  I was just beginning to revel in the semi-solitude and the gradual unveiling of the magnificence before me when the sun finally popped, greeted by a serenity shattering “AHHHH!”, enthusiastic clapping, and other gleeful expressions by the gang from the Land of the Rising Sun.  To which I became annoyed.  How “touristy”, I thought.  And then, gratefully, a moment later, I saw it from a different perspective.  How perfectly lovely to show such childlike wonder and appreciation of something that is truly miraculous and awesome.  I loved their spontaneity and decided to adopt an attitude of inquisitiveness and gratitude for the remainder of the trip.

I felt a little like George Costanza in the episode of Seinfeld where he decides to do everything the opposite and amazingly it works out beautifully.  Being in awesome natural surroundings afforded me many opportunities to practice my new “What would George do?” attitude.  I’d heard Sedona was a spiritual place so I decided to “ask as if”, pretending that I was receiving messages in everything I saw.  I figured that even if it weren’t because of the “vortex” or the energy or the whatever, the thought was somewhere in my conscious or unconscious mind, was coming forward for a reason and probably would be worth looking at.   

We did many hikes up and down red rocks and deep caverns.  On one trail I found a blue rock that was shaped exactly like a human ear.  I decided to take this as a sign that I needed to listen more.  Three times we came across cactus in the shape of a heart.  I took this to mean that love can appear painful but at its core is soft and mushy and life-sustaining in difficult times.  There were ravens or crows everywhere.  One was even in the parking lot walking next to me.  That one just spooked me.  But I also watched two of them in a tree:  one was squawking away and the other just sat there, as if it was patiently waiting for its partner to finish its ranting.  Then, when it seemed to be done, they flew off together.  I took that as a message that sometimes you just need to let your partner vent before you can move on together.  I was serenaded by cicadas.  As least I think that’s what they were:  I heard them but never saw them.  It was a reminder that just because you can’t see something, it doesn’t mean it’s not real.  And lastly, the mountains themselves were very inspirational.  So stately, powerful, elegant and unique - no two were the same.  Weathering the good and the bad, they were magnificent in the strength they portrayed.  It was a big lesson on the power of being rather than doing.   

Every bit of nature I encountered had some sort of message for me.  But the biggest one may have come from someplace closer to home: listening to myself.  Our last hike was a beauty – traversing gradually up the side of Doe Mountain.  About 2/3 of the way up, my boyfriend, who is, shall we say, less than excited about heights, decided he had gone about as far as he wanted to.  Normally I would agree and go back down.  But that day I felt that I needed to reach the top.  So on I went, alone.  It was such an invigorating feeling to be alone on that mountain, watching my perspective change with each step.  As I neared the top and could finally see the summit, I began to feel sick.  I found myself listening to some old thought patterns:  telling myself that this was good enough, look how far you’ve come, what a great view from here, and who would know the difference anyway?  I would know the difference I realized, so I pushed on.

   I cannot tell you what a rush it was to reach the top.  Being a part of that 360 degree vista was amazing.  But even more so was the feeling that I pushed myself past that which has held me back in the past and came out the other side better for it.  As I walked back down the narrow trail I practically felt like skipping.  A few loose rocks quickly brought me back to reality on that one!  As I was thinking about how much fun this adventure had been, I flashed back to being 10 years old and exploring the fields and woods in our neighborhood. It was the same feeling:  freedom, exhilaration, confidence, curiosity and gratitude for each newly discovered treasure.  I felt so connected with that younger me and realized that at that moment I had never felt so totally “me”.  It brought me to tears.  As I stood on that mountain path, engulfed in gratitude, a huge Yellowtail butterfly, which had followed me all the way up the hike, encircled me and flew off.  My learning for that moment was complete. 

There are probably other experiences awaiting me in my life which will give me a chance to push myself and come out stronger on the other end.  No doubt there will be challenges with my career, my family, my relationships or even in dealing with myself.  But I know that I have the tools and capacity to deal with them.   I came back from this vacation feeling like I had escaped the confines of my mind.  It was energizing and expanding and gave me the impetus to keep going.  My sister ran her first marathon last year at 48 years old and told me it was a similar experience.  I’ll trust her on that one because….well, I’d say I’ll never do that….but we know where that will lead!      

I was in 5th grade and I must have muttered something about not being able to see the blackboard one too many times. Next thing I knew I was getting glasses.  I don’t remember much about my blurry existence leading up to that moment, but I remember the instant I put on those tortoise-shell cat glasses:  everything was so BRIGHT!  Colors came alive and things had such definition.  I was Dorothy stepping out of her drab twister-traveling house into Oz.  Everything was beautiful and exciting again. 

Every so often I am lucky enough to have one of those “new glasses” experiences.  The first beautiful day of Spring always infuses me with hope and happiness.  Watching my children come through an experience which brings me right back to when I had done the same.  And if I’m lucky, just taking the time to observe what is going on around me with “new eyes”.  Last week was one of those times.

I’ve walked this path enough times now to know that when I am feeling frustrated and unsure of myself, it’s a sign I need to slow down and look for the answer.  Invariably it is right in front of me.  So when that old familiar feeling started creeping in of late, I took the time to observe.  I look for patterns - in behavior, language, situations.  Any time I see three of something, I figure that it might be noteworthy.  And I keep looking with renewed interest to see what I can learn from the pattern being presented to me. 

As if often the case, I saw a pattern in the behaviors of three persons whom I had known or known of for a while.  Although what they do is always of the highest quality, it is more what is behind it that spoke to me.

The first is a woman who is a great networker and invited a group of what she considered to be interesting women to dinner so that we could meet each other.  It was an honor in its self to be considered an “interesting woman”!  The next one is another woman who describes herself as a “serial entrepreneur”.  What she does with her time/life is exhausting for me to even think about.  Not only does she run major events to help companies get started, but has a couple of her own businesses (global) and manages to assist a charity helping third world countries build preschools and boost healthcare and immunizations.  And she is always high energy and high optimism.  And the third person was Tim Russert.  No, I never knew him, but like millions of others, I felt like I did.  He exemplified an authentic person who lived life with passion.  I cried more watching his memorial service than I had since my dog died.  

So what was the pattern that spoke to me?  Successful people doing what they love.  They were all totally genuine.  What they did was not overtly because of where it would get them; it was because it was what spoke to them.  It was by doing what was important to them that cleared the way for their success.  They were not successful just in a monetary or status way either.  They were/are successful in the game of life.  They give of themselves freely and share their gifts without reservation.  They probably wouldn’t even think it was a big deal what they were doing because it was so much just doing what was natural to them.  They inspired me, like Payne Stewart did years ago, to do what is important to me, to use the gifts I’ve been given, and know that the rest will fall in line.  When I can get out of the ceaseless churnings of my overactive mind and just trust my heart, the results are truly amazing.

I was thinking recently about how my mother in law used to come to our house with about 3 pairs of reading glasses and invariably leave one behind.  I never understood why she needed so many pairs, until I got a little older myself.  Last week was like finding a misplaced pair of glasses - I could finally see things clearly again!  Life seems to be a series of misplaced glasses at times but I remain grateful that for those few days I’m able to see with new eyes.  I imagine that when I finally learn how to trust and continually do the right thing it will be a little like Lasik surgery:  seeing clearly the majority of the time, with only a few times needing a little extra assistance.  Maybe someday I’ll get there, but for now I’m just thankful for the glasses!

 
It is interesting how in a month where we celebrate Mothers – and frankly I was looking forward to being honored – I found myself acting less like a mother and more like a scary resemblance of my children when they were much younger. Ok, basically I was throwing a tantrum. Debbie Ford calls it our “shadow side”. I call it just plain ugly.

Everything just seemed too much: too much pressure, stress, too many things to do, too many bills. I have concerns about the environment, politics, natural disasters, and laundry…and I haven’t even dared try on my bathing suit yet. I believe that might put me over the edge.

There was no particular instance, no unkind word or rebuffed remark that triggered this. It seemed to sneak up on me, particularly when I am tired or feeling vulnerable. That wall of strength I normally carry becomes a mound of sand. The Good Girl in me is appalled by this aberration, by the thoughts and feelings that are spewing forth. But frankly, the ugly side of me could really care less. It’s tired of lurking in the background and wants its time to shine. God forbid you try to give me advice during this time. You know the expression “Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned”? Wrong. Hell hath no fury like a grown woman throwing a tantrum whose ugly side wants its day! A truck driver would recoil in horror at the things bombarding around in my head. Once during one of these lovely episodes years ago I walking through the old, not-family-friendly Times Square and I actually made a lecherous patron of a XXX theatre step back in shock when his none too complimentary comment to me was met with a particularly threatening “Drop Dead NOW” stare.

Besides the obvious targets, loved ones seem to be the other favorite. You think you love me? Well, try this one and THEN tell me what you think. To top it off, I was watching the ever calm and smiling Michelle Duggar, mother to 17 children, announce to her happy clan on national TV that they will soon have an 18th sibling. This woman also home schools her kids. Words cannot describe the shock and disbelief that raged through me. She is either insane or on massive drugs. As I was rushing my daughter out the door to school so I could get a minute alone, I was telling her about them: how the children are so well behaved, everyone is always smiling, they all help out around the house, and they all support each other. I was bemoaning the fact that they are such a happy and loving family- and just look at us. Emily very calmly looked at me and said, “Mom, we ARE a loving family”.

It broke the mood.

It has been said that our children are here to be our teachers. I get that. I also get now how my son felt as a frustrated 4 year old: how you don’t want someone to tell you to behave yourself or to do one more thing. I get how it feels when you are changing and the world is changing and everything that goes with that is scary. I get that you recognize there is this ugly side of you that is also a scary thing and you just want someone to hold you and tell you that you and everything will be okay. In fact, it’s okay no matter how it may appear.

So on Mother’s Day, when my kids pampered me all day, and my son who watches the Food Network as enthusiastically as ESPN fixed for me a magnificent dinner, and the two still at home beamed when they brought out the beautifully decorated cake they had made in my honor, I was able to take it all in. I was thankful not only for the gratitude and love they showed me, but for the lessons they are continuing to teach me about myself and life. I love all sides of them – and myself – dearly. I am grateful to be a Mother and grateful to have these teachers in my life - but I still don’t want 15 more!

 More networking events…more connections made!

If you missed the May Open House, you missed a lot of fun and great networking!  Seven PWC members exhibited their businesses and networked with the women who attended…who also enjoyed complimentary chair massages by our own fabulous massage therapist, Regina McLoughlin!  50% of those in attendance joined the PWC that day, with more to come!!!!   Join today and become a part of the excitement!