I pulled up to the gym at 8:40 last night for my late-night workout. As I was driving over there, I saw lots of police cars—there was another protest about the BART shooting. (I watched videos of that last night; chilling. Which doesn’t seem to be an adequate word for it.) The street in front of the gym is deserted; it’s never empty of cars. Then I notice the glass all over the sidewalk; a big window was smashed in the rioting. Sigh.
This is a tragedy.
I am grateful for my own personal safety. I am grateful for my love of humanity and my prayers for peace. And I am grateful for compassion.
I am grateful for a new project from an old client. Nice. I did a spell of intention about the need for new work, and poof! the phone rang.
Here’s an intention for more of the same. Please. Bring it! My invitation to the universe. I am happy to work; I love work; I love interesting clients and I love being of service. It is my pleasure.
I’m grateful to have my invoices sent out, just two days late (I have a habit of stalling on invoicing—and on cashing checks—when I haven’t made enough money in the month). I love cash flow and I am privileged to participate in the great circulation.
I finished my Crone’s Breath homework last night. Answered some tough questions, about sex and love at this stage of my life; about death and dying and my plans and preferences for same. Tough work. Good work. Motivated me to tell my sister that she can have my knitting tools and yarn when I go and that she can have my cherished wok and knives too. I wasn’t going to give her the latter as I thought she wouldn’t treasure them. She assures me she will, and so they will be hers.
These are good plans to make, even if a bit difficult. I’m grateful to be willing.
