I was having lunch with my new friend, Gayle, just over the border in B.C.  Though it was only fifty degrees, give or take a degree, she suggested we sit outside on the restaurant's patio.  I agreed, not wanting to seem like the wimpy American that I am.  Though Gayle sported red fleece, I noted that the other Canadians on the porch looked comfortable in their shorts.

While I surreptitiously shivered over my pastrami sandwich, Gayle told me about a workshop she'd attended over the summer.  "We talked about what makes us spiral up or spiral down," she said.  She zipped her fleece jacket down in punctuation.

Hearing about spirals, a shape that a Detour Queen such as myself appreciates, reminded me of a conclusion I'd come to a while ago:  There is no such thing as neutral.  Neutral is an illusion; you are either on your way up or your way down.  The best thing you can do about feeling neutral is be aware of it, then catch things before they head south.  It's as if you're a pilot in an old war movie, screaming into the microphone, "May Day, May Day," while you wrestle the flaps upwards.

To head north, I suggest you quickly grab a book with an emphasis on the positive and shove as many sentences into your head as possible.  Or jump in the car and head for the border, like I did, to spend some time with hearty, happy people such as Canadians.  Or you can look to nature to inspire you.  Just try and remain neutral when a squadron of geese flap in a V formation over your head, honking their brains out.  There's something so loony about their call, that as they swerve south, it sends the corners of your mouth north.

Or, if it's a chilly day in October and your new friend makes you smile, even if your face freezes that way, give thanks for the uplift.

Your mantra for the week is: I notice when I'm neutral and course correct north before I head south.