I've been repeating a mantra of abundance to myself. Time and money seem to be topping the list but hey, who's counting, besides me and Mr. Visa.
Images of completed manuscript (edits due SOON) and completed manuscript (who asked their mother to line edit? Not I. Whose mother is line editing? Yup. Line. By. Line.) Tree trimmed. Gifts wrapped. Music on. Children sleeping. House warm.
I read that book THE SECRET quite a while back. Not a huge fan, I found it overly simplistic and incredibly culturally placed. The scene where the guy is imaging himself driving a new car while ensconced in his reclining leather chair is seared forever in my brain as a what? really? that's what you focus your energy on? kind of imprint.
But it lead me to those other books, THE ALCHEMIST and ones like that, where the quest is on a different (dare I say higher) plain. And abundance seems to fit in with that.
As I drove to a meeting fifteen minutes late this morning. (Aside: I hate being late. Hate is a strong word and I use it purposefully; I hate being late. I find, however, that it may be a natural state of being while I have small children. My time, for now, is not my own, however I may bend and twist, and once I relax into acceptance I may be able to handle this concept better.) Had I left the house on time I would have missed the traffic heading downtown. As it was I was travelling with that great mass of people on their way to work. Missed all the lights and the short journey was more than doubled. On top of being late I was now....later.
I encouraged Raging Self to accept. No point in getting mad, I reasoned, as all the parts of me that I don't particularly like reared their heads like sharp toothed monsters. Abundance. Abundance. Life will go on the meeting does not fail without you it is better to come late than to not come at all....
And you know what? I got a perfect parking spot, didn't plug the metre because I had no change, didn't get a ticket, saw a bunch of people I like, and generally had a great day.