i emerged from my self-imposed exile yesterday (okay -- i'll be honest, it's still Thursday - i figured since i was out of my cave, i'd do as much as i could before heading back in) -- where was i? -- oh, yes -- i emerged to write a letter to those lovely people who let me impose upon their Inbox and so i thought i'd pop in here with something other than wisteria-covered cottages or rain-spattered windows or angst-ridden heroines of mist-shrouded moors.
so here i am.
now that i'm here, i don't have much coherent to say.
tiny miracles. oh, yes.
you know how it is when the gloom rises and the clouds of despair hover ominously? well, that's where i spent a good part of this week (you may notice a shift in the sketch diary pages during that time).
it's funny how i can occupy, simultaneously, the provinces of sheerest delight and broodingest melancholy. i'm at my happiest just now, in my creative-magic world and yet somehow i'm also restless and anxious and discontented in my muggle-world.
must be my Gemini moon.
all flip and glib aside -- we're facing some nail-biting financial times here at the patchwork farmhouse. this is not a state with which we're unfamiliar, and not one that lasts indefinitely, but still -- i'm being tried and tested. i have this knee-jerk reaction during these times --- springing from the old story reels that insist upon knowing exactly how things are going to be at all times, particularly when it comes to finances -- and that's to make decisions based on fear. but, as i wrote in today's (Thursday's) sketchdiary page, when i catch myself doing this and step back and breathe for a moment, i'm able to see the tiny miracles that are dancing in front of my very eyes. these are the small god-winks or moving statues or whatever you want to call them, that let me know that faith in the process, trusting my intuition -- these are always seen and heard and supported by the Universe.
a few years ago, when we were still living in the city, our car (among several others in our townhouse complex parking lot) was broken into. nothing was taken (who wants to steal five billion old coffee cups?) but the steering column was vandalized. anyway - the ne'er-do-well was caught, charged and sentenced to, among other things, i'm sure, pay restitution. our portion is $1000. several months later we got a cheque for $40. after that, nothing. we'd pretty much forgotten about it.
so imagine my surprise when, having made the trek into the post office yesterday, i found an envelope there from the Bails and Restitution office. it was a cheque for $228.
that may not seem like much -- but around here, right now -- it's a small fortune. it means the hydro bill is paid on time and with a nice bit left over to pad the grocery budget.
a tiny miracle, yes?
i'm so very humbled by these sorts of things. i almost feel ashamed of my doubt and my dubiousness. still, i suppose it's all part of learning to fully trust my intuition -- to override my head and its tendency to circle the wagons and pull up the drawbridge.
it's a wild ride, this life-of-dreams, you know -- certainly not for the faint-hearted, as i'm shown time and time again. i'm thankful for B, who despite driving me to absolute distraction sometimes by his apparent inaction, believes in us without reservation. he steadies me and i light a fire under him. fire and water, we are. a precarious balance sometimes, but we manage to pull it off.
one tiny miracle at a time.