Gifted

Was catching up on DatingGod today when I once again got one of those cosmic smacks upside the head.

The trigger? She writes:

The ongoing surface lure of the spiritual life is the promise of better things, more abundance, less stress, more joy, and this is all true but not in the way that it appears in the beginning. The whole abundance aspect is not about more money, but in feeling grateful and fabulously taken care of by the money-energy that is present. Less stress is about seeing that there is nothing to be stressed about, that all is well no matter what is going on. And the promise of better things is fulfilled when we choose to see the positive, the Yes, in everything and everyone.

I had to stop and read that a couple of times. Because I suddenly saw that ever since the wedding I've been manufacturing my own problems and stress . . .

I've been frustrated with our housing situation, frustrated that we don't have the money or other resources to buy a house right now, but have forgotten to be grateful that we have all we truly need (and so much more) and have a plan to save enough that we should be able to look at buying about a year from now.

I've been frustrated that Pukka's not always exactly who I want him to be, but have forgotten to be grateful that he's precisely the wonderful man that he is. Who else would remind me at 3 am that it's time to try sleeping again? Who else would brave the heat (that he hates) and the crowds (that he hates) to see fireworks (that he doesn't care about) simply because it makes me happy? Who else plays silly games with me in bed late at night, like imagining a world where the kitties became human-sized and we were the size of the kitties? And who else promised to spend his life with me?

But mostly I've been frustrated that I am not always exactly who I want me to be, but have forgotten to be grateful that today I am more that woman than I was a year ago, and so much more so than I was even a year before that.

So yeah, again I come to the realization that I'm making my own bed to lie in, and it can either be writhing with angst and frustration, or it can be chock full of gratitude and kitties and Pukka. Put that way, it's a fairly simple choice.