Housekeeping note: Many of you have probably noticed that I changed the entire design of the bloggity a few days ago. I’m not sure that I’m loving this design either… Stay tuned for more possible changes and excuse the mess if things get a little wonky in the meantime.

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Well, crap. I don’t have a pre-defined topic for gratitude today.

Let’s make it up as we go along …

Ah. Got one.

I’m thankful for not having a topic but trusting that one will come when I’m ready for it.

I guess you could call that faith.

Born to it

I’ve gotten really good at having faith as I get older. Because, oddly enough, during the most secure time of my life I used to worry a lot.

When I was in third or fourth grade, all tucked into bed wearing a nightgown my mother sewed for me herself, down the hall from my mommy and daddy and sisters, I used to get stressed out about the future.

For example, I’d worry that I didn’t know how to write checks and that one day I’d need to pay bills and check-writing would be necessary.

I’d worry that I didn’t know how to do electrical work because someday when I got older I might have a wiring issue.

I’d worry that lightning might strike the house, that I would wind up in H-E-double-hockey-sticks and that I was a dirty girl because sometimes I thought about body parts — you know, those body parts.

Then, when I was 14, I had a massive existential crisis.

Hey, I’m an overachiever in some things … what can I say?

Anything that was on the occult/paranormal/spiritual shelf at the Warminster Free Public Libary, I took home.

It was a hodgepodge. I ended up reading about everything from reincarnation to ley lines and fairies and nymphs and Stonehenge to various topics that now relate to what we all snickeringly call The Secret.

Some of it seemed plain kooky. Other bits were fascinating. But there were so many contradictions. Plus, I’d been brought up to be a technical Catholic — that’s a term I just made up for someone whose parents did juuuuuust enough churchy things to prevent them from getting damned — so all that guilt and fear overshadowed the lot of it.

Finally, I did something very mature for my tender age. I went, “I’m interested in this stuff, but I don’t understand it yet. I’m not ready. I’ll pick it up at again later. Maybe in my 30s.”

Which is exactly what I did — and why I’m as enlightened and luminescent as you all know me to be today.

Believing

Right now, there are some things I don’t know.

The money bit — I gotta say, that one has been a bitch. However, not having enough money has also been one of my biggest exercises in faith. I firmly believe that whenever things get too dire — and they so fucking have, many times — that money will show up.

And it always, always does. I get a gift card for re-upping with Verizon, a freelance job comes through, I get some sort of rebate I wasn’t expecting.

Right now I’m trying to guide that a little more because I’m tired of just getting by — I’m ready to thrive. So I’ve decided to have faith that the right money-making vehicle will appear when I’m ready for it.

Psssst … universe? I feel pretty ready. Shoot that fucker over, wouldja? Much thanks.

Hearts and flowers and all that schtuff

I also have faith about love. I can’t believe that I still do, but I guess I do.

A few weeks ago, I did with Love the same thing that I did with spirituality so long ago — I decided to put it down for a while.

I mean, I’m totally open to the big L-O-V-E if it comes skipping my way. And golly gee, that sure would be nice, kidsters.

But I don’t have the stomach for the online thing at the moment. I’ve had lots of fun doing it in the past, but I don’t have the energy for it right now.

(Side note: Is there money to be made in writing people’s online-dating profiles? Because I think I could be KILLER at it.)

I look at online dating like I look at my awesome thrift- store mojo. Have I not told you about my thrift-store mojo? I’m amazing. I think about what I’d like before I go — something red, with this sort of neckline, that makes me feel like this — and BOOM! I find it. Often, it’s an impressive brand name and sometimes it even still has the tags on it.

But if I go in feeling Meh I don’t find shit.

I was feeling sorta Meh about the dating site. So I’m off.

But I’m not outta the game. I’ve just decided to sit in this space and believe that the right person will come along at the right time — whenever that happens to be.

Getting in the groove

In the meantime, I’m also paying attention to rituals. Yes, I’m a hippie at heart but I’m not talking about burning stuff and chanting (although listen, if that’s your bag, more power to you).

I’m talking about the everyday rituals that deliver faith.

Example: I do not know what to write about. I sit in this chair and look at this screen. I get my fingers moving. The words come.

I am tired. I am cold. I put on the purple peacock sneakers and take steps forward. All of a sudden, I can run forever.

I’m grumpy. I have a short fuse. The world feels like it’s closing in on me. I straighten up my living room and kitchen and everything feels better somehow. (I can’t believe that one, but it’s true.)

Right now, I’m looking for the ritual that delivers financial abundance. Also, the ritual to deliver a true soulmate relationship (yeah, I said it — snicker if you must but isn’t that what we all want?) that includes intellectual and physical passion but is still realistic enough to ensure we both get bills paid, practice personal hygiene and keep the house from turning into a landfill.

These things are important.

One stolen thought

I heard a great idea about all this years ago. If you’re stressing out about HOW to get someplace, just take a step. Get started even if you don’t have your entire course plotted yet.

If you were going to drive across the country and it was dark, you’d put your headlights on. You wouldn’t expect to see the whole way right away. But as you drove, the path in front of you would be illuminated.

I’m trusting that what I need right now is illumunated. The rest will be shown to me when it’s time for me to see it.