I am on my way to Napa Valley when I have my epiphany. I know who I am, as does every other human being. Not everyone needs to visit Italy, India, Indonesia, or any other spiritual ground to find what they think is missing. Typically, what we are searching for is in our backyard.

My husband and I begin our vacation with a five-hour plane ride to meet some friends and experience Napa Valley, or US wine country. Before you get any gag-me eruptions, let me begin with the fact that I am a beer drinker. When our friends inquired via email about any particular wineries we wanted to visit, my response was, do they have any Anheuser Wineries?

The intent was to relax in California, hang with friends who live on the other side of this great nation and take a few sips of wine. Hopefully to be followed up with a beer chaser. My only concern was if I would offend the wine connoisseurs by toting my cooler of beer behind me.

We have four children, and this was our adult-only trip of the year. We wanted to relax, sleep in, go out to dinner, and not have any activities to attend. AHHHH, a vacation.

Mine started the second we got on the plane. I had a book. I was going to read a book, an entire book. I would read the book and not fall asleep. I could get through hundreds of pages. Not read six pages, fall asleep, pick the book up the next night, and read the same six pages only to fall asleep again. There would be no interruptions about missing Webkinz or hunger pains that had to be satisfied immediately. I had the gift of quiet concentration. I had my book.

It was a book I had heard a lot about but had no particular interest in reading. A friend of mine told me she enjoyed it, and it had some great insight into spiritual growth. Okay, I guess? I asked if I could borrow it for my trip, and she gladly handed it over. Full disclosure, the book I took with me is titled Eat, Pray, Love. Everyone had talked about it for months, so I thought I would partake.

As I started the book and read my first thirty pages, I thought, I should be a writer. After I finished the book, I became a critic of the book. Not because it wasn't good but because I have a different perspective.

My criticism of this book was simple, it just didn’t do it for me, or did it?

While discussing this book with others, I was honest with my feelings about all the hoopla that surrounded the book.

All this meditation, divinity-seeking exploration is difficult for me to swallow, no disrespect to the author in her quest. It just wasn’t for me. So in the first thirty pages, I decided I am a different person than this woman. I have a completely different view of so many of her experiences, but that is good. We are all different. It should be that way. I am just not jumping on the bandwagon of seeking something I need to travel around the world to find.

I live in the moment. I don’t live my life looking forward to parties, travel, or vacations. Of course, the anticipation of fun is always a great feeling, but it doesn’t mean I will waste valuable time dreaming, while life is passing me by. Good, bad, or ugly, life is fleeting and should be valued above all else. You may not relate to this, or you can become a critic of mine, your prerogative, and your opinion regardless you have my respect.

My honest opinion, if you are born in the United States of America, the cards are dealt in your favor. There is a lot of bad out there we have no control over, so please understand I am aware, but the things we can control are much easier when you are born and live in the US of A.

My sudden interest in writing was not a result of reading this book. The result of reading the book is that I took action. Again, this overexposed book didn’t do it for me, or did it?

I think one of the reasons I became a critic of the book is it is the first book I read since I began writing to our revered men and women serving our country in Iraq. I do have writing experience, its just raw and not published. Details, ha.

To date, I have written fifty-one letters to soldiers in Iraq. They are serving and protecting our country. My letters are not exactly two pages. My letters are typically six pages, hand-written. I probably have three hundred pages of dialogue with our servicemen and women, who I have written specifically to thank for serving our country and protecting our freedom.

My true epiphany and my ability to write was when I took action. To get into how long I had thought and desired to write our troops is one aspect, but the gumption to take action is what my writing is all about. Not only taking action but taking action by doing the right thing.

I have journaled my entire life, not intentionally but as another release. It is similar to running, and I use the mileage as my therapy session to work through things in my life. Good, happy, sad, and challenging, it serves as an outlet to vent. It spares others from hearing my woes, complaints, or positive personal wins. People get bored listening to others about the above and then some.

As I have said in other posts and writings, I unintentionally mess up often while speaking. Running is my internal therapy session with myself. Writing is my ability to share my inner feelings while being able to use the proverbial eraser when I say the wrong thing.

The perfect storm happened when this beer drinker began her journey to Napa Valley. I had time to myself. I had the ability to read a book uninterrupted. It was after my Lenten commitment of writing our service men and women in Iraq. It all came about from reading Eat, Pray, Love, the book that did not do it for me, or did it?

In the end, the book DID do it for me. What? Why? How? While the author and I have different methods of figuring out lifes curve balls, we both disovered success. She became a renowned author and seller of millions of books. I realized I love to write whether anyone reads it or not. Don't matter to me. Therapeutic.

In conclusion, regarding the title of this post, A beer drinker goes to Napa Valley, I realize, I have not even gotten off the plane yet. Squirrel.