I Am A Thief

My 80-year old Mother was all smiles (and without teeth) when she told me she's been saving up money because she wants to give me a $1000, for no reason at all. I felt bad because she lives on a tiny income from Social Security. "You don't have to do that," I said and watched her joy deflate and disappear. I realized in that moment that she's probably been saving for months. I imagined her pulling out bills from her secret hiding place and counting it at night and thinking what she wouldn't buy tomorrow so she could add to her little stash. Who am I to steal her joy? So I took a deep breath and said, "Thank you. That's very thoughtful. You're very generous." And her smile came out like the sun behind the clouds. 

I have a generous heart and I love, love, love giving gifts. What makes me think it is any less joyous for others? I am a thief. I have stolen your joy. Forgive me for pushing away your gifts. Forgive me for making them less important by resisting them. Today I will practice saying, "Thank you."


The traffic slowed on the way to work because dew lay heavy on the road. It gave me extra time to deliberately create.

I have been very careful to focus only on the good so that I stay in a good place so only good things comes to me. I pull down my visor to hide the lighted "SLIPPERY ROAD" sign hanging over the highway. I turn my head aside to avoid seeing more than a second of the car, tow truck and CHP on the side of the road.


I'm playing around with an idea of the company I want to work for. It's a newborn idea and I keep it hidden in my heart. I don't want to hear why it is impossible so I keep it to myself. I want to deliberately create it, envision it, pretend and imagine it. I wrote down the name of the company and sealed it in an envelope with Bill's name on it. It's on my desk. We'll see what happens.


Sometimes...I feel...expansive...and all-powerful. I had one of those moments today as I was leaving work and getting on the freeway. It filled my heart...and bubbled over...and spilled out...and I yelled, "I LOVE YOU ALL AND I'M GLAD I'M HERE"...and waved to the guy in the car next to me.


My daughter, Alexis, doesn't call things "problems." She calls them "situations."

Sometimes I see this situation at work like I've been standing on the edge of a diving board for a long time...looking down into the water...thinking how deep it is...and what I might do, what I could do, what I should do...but never jumping. And then BAM...something shakes the ground...it reverberates up the metal sides of the diving platform...and travels along the diving board...and I wouldn't say I was pushed (because I don't think my angels and etheric guides do such things), but I would say it was impossible to stay on that board and I just kinda fell off. I know the water's warm and I know how to swim, but I'm falling and I haven't hit the water yet.

Other times it seems like I've been shot out of a cannon...and I'm flying through the air...looking down on the circus...seeing the clowns (you know who they are), bearded lady and elephants. I know there's a net some place, I just haven't hit it yet.

Bill says I'm like a little plum tree. The only way you get the fruit is to grab it by the trunk and shake it really hard. Hmmm. I think I like the image of waving at the circus clowns as I fly overhead better.

May you be the clown and not the guy who follows the elephants.

Warmly,


Catherine