There’s French Press. There’s Wine Press. And there’s Free Press! 

I’m a lifelong coffee fan, pressed or unpressed. Do you remember percolated? I started drinking the big, black stuff when I was about eight – before people realized that late-night coffee drinking might constitute child negligence. (Lucky for me.) In the beginning, I garnished it heavily with cream and sugar. The cream went in my college years due to lack of availability dormside. Then I kept decreasing the sugar until people told me that it wasn’t worth passing the bowl for. I’m still a fan of the original brew although an extra hot soy latte from Starbucks with thick (not extra) foam is now my ultimate sip. And I have a SB Gold Card to prove it.


I didn’t grow up drinking wine. In fact, it was forbidden by the religious system of my family. I didn’t mind and wasn’t curious. Until I had therapy. Oh the unconsidered benefits of good therapy—where you start to question everything and one day in your thirties, you find your self in an out-of-town Safeway at midnight looking for a guy named Morgan David. My husband and I (also a virgin of the vine) took to our motel room and gingerly imbibed. It resembled a well-aged cough syrup but all was forgiven for the sheer bliss of sinful sipping. And once we made Presbyterian friends, the sweet press of wine became a way of life. Love my Cab.


But last week, a new “press” came into my life, quenching another kind of thirst. I’d had a taste of it once when I first Googled myself (sounds obscene). Somewhere in the pages, I discovered that someone with a blog mentioned my book, “Who Are You Calling Grandma?” Someone I had never heard of had quoted me! But, alas, social media neophyte that I was, I didn’t even know I’d been freely pressed. Then last Wednesday, I got an email from Louise Edington, a coach with Social Networking and Coaching Club. “Congratulations! You’ve been chosen as my Facebook Fan of the Week.” Wow! I didn’t even know there was such a thing as a FFW and now I was one! I wanted to ask, “To what do I owe this honor?” but I was afraid the answer might be “random drawing” so I stuck with my own little fantasy. But what I did know was that I had gotten actual, literal, true and undeniable Free Press.


If you’re a fan of my blog you may be scratching your head at what appears to be an aberrant Evolving Journey missile. Isn’t EJ about “Shaking up a cocktail of soul and spirit with a twist of laughter?” I hope you've had a giggle or two, but Where’s the soul? Where’s the spirit? Right here: I’ve had my deepest and most intimate dialogues over cups of coffee and glasses of wine. And I’ll continue to do so I assure you. But receiving Free Press, as part of the social media experience, helps me begin to create intimacy with people all over the world, offering the elixir of my soul to those I will never meet, yet whose lives I touch and  who will touch mine in return. For a writer, this is gold… a step in the direction of fulfilling my mission to support women everywhere to radically trust their own evolution. Thank you, Louise. Thank you, Ann Evanston of SNCC. Heartfelt Cheers to both of you!

A Hui Hou (til we meet again)
Maridel