There’s a whole lotta magic available to me, I’m just starting to see.  For reals.   Thing is, it’s not wave a wand and poof type magic, it’s more plod plod plod plod plod plod plod and, “Wow I’m not what I was before” magic. 

My body and my mind feel like solid rock some days.  On those days, there’s so little give, so little space, that it’s an effort to simply walk.  My back gets tight.  I know it’s exacerbated by stress, or maybe even caused by stress.

As a quasi-agnostic, I don’t love the word miracles, but it has a much better ring to it than “really unexpected good things.”  Court Surprisingly Good Things.  Nope, doesn’t do it the same way. And when I look at the world through wonder-colored glasses, miracle-courting glasses, it’s a much better place to be.

There’s a character who’s on my side completely, on the side of my higher, more ephemeral self.  The self that’s stronger than Evie, the evil inner critic, stronger than Princess Wah Wah, the inner grandiose victim, and bigger than Jenna, the merry domestic goddess.

Honestly, at the peak of the flea situation I was ready to get rid of Cleo.  Not permanently, just while she got de-flea’d.   I know this thought makes me a bad cat person, possibly a bad person in general.  But I’ve always considered myself a dog person who is too lazy and selfish to take care of dogs and therefore has a cat.

It’s been 8 days since my last post, probably the longest break I’ve had in three years.  I thought about posting, I even wrote some titles, but didn’t give myself the tiny amount of focused time it takes to complete one.  For all kinds of good reasons of course. And then I wonder why it was a turbulent week.

In the face of a big white wall, I’ve been known to paint on canvas and hang it up.  And my hubby Mike seems to enjoy the results, and so do I. There’s a big white all in our living room however that I’ve left unadorned.

The cure for not enough-itis is not more, it’s a change in perspective.  I know that, and you probably know that, and yet not enough-itis still creeps in if unattended.   And there’s a culture of consumption that encourages the (diseased) way of thinking that more will lead to — peace? Happiness? Safety? A sense of worthiness?

We’re so lucky sometimes it’s hard to fathom.  Like today, we have heat for our home, clean water to drink, healthy food to eat, even  chocolate.   The grey sky outside is morning mist, not smoke, I’m pretty sure, and we are safe.  At this moment we are safe.