I read a lot of magazines. Just the other day, I pulled seven -- SEVEN! -- from the mailbox. Okay, some of those were Jim's, but still. I told Jim the mailman surely loves coming to our house because we're keeping him in a job. (Keeping the publishers in a job, too, I suppose.)

Of all the tomes to which I subscribe, O the Oprah Magazine and MORE are the two that fascinate me most each month because they're filled with stories of women who have firmly grabbed hold of life with two manicured fists and shaped fulfilling careers of which they're passionate and well paid. Usually after an epiphany of some sort. Often after an epiphany had upon reading an article in that very same magazine.

I don't have epiphanies upon reading the articles. And I want one. Desperately. I want to come across words that take my breath away, make me reconsider all the trappings keeping me from reaching my fullest potential, lead me to pull out all the money from my 401K and go whole-hog after what I truly want to make of my life, what I truly am meant to be, what will truly make me shine and rock and roll. Roll in the dough, preferably, as all those featured seem to magically do upon acting on their epiphanies.

But, like I said, I've yet to have an epiphany. I get sparks of motivation, flashes of creativity, glimmers of what could be upon reading the articles. Then I just get frustrated because it never seems to move beyond that, move ME beyond that. Why can't I be one of those who see the light, the secret to self-actualization and pursuit of one's passion hidden deep within the pages of O and MORE?

Why can't I be like the stay-at-home mom who, mulling over a magazine article as she drove along the Pacific highway on an errand, became mesmerized by the kiteboarders in the water, pulled over to ask them about the new-to-her activity, had an epiphany -- WHAM! -- and threw caution to the wind, started her own company providing high-priced, world-wide travel packages to well-to-do folks with a penchant for action and adventure.

Or why can't I be like the woman who, laid off from her job, stared out at the Kansas prairie on which she lived and instead of lamenting the piles of tumbleweeds collecting in her front yard, had an epiphany -- WHAM! -- put those tumbleweeds up for sale on Craigslist ... and soon became the ultimate tumbleweed provider for Western-themed galas, movies, and more. She now makes a living -- an admirable living! -- off the cuss she wants cleared from her yard?

I have a lot of cuss in my yard I'd like cleared. Mostly pine needles, but there may be an untapped market for them. I have even more cuss in my mind that I'd like cleared ... preferably by an epiphany. Directly related to an article in one of the many magazines to which I subscribe.

Maybe I'm trying to force an epiphany. Maybe I'm hoping for too much. Maybe I'm searching too hard within magazine pages.

Maybe I should just stop reading the cuss magazines.

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Today's question:

What is your favorite magazine to read, in print or online?