well, well well

10/12/2021 0 By BuddyCushman

Here I am Monday morning writing Tuesday’s possible post, I wonder what the day-ahead-of-time composing this week means? Or maybe it doesn’t mean anything other than stuff in my life doesn’t work and then other stuff does and my best bet is to be alert for the openings and grateful if and when they come. And pounce.

So I’m here early with the San Marcos kids covering someone else’s shift plus my own, and there’s a birthday in the house which is cool beans and celebrations, balloons and the kind of plain old joys we all need – all of us and the whole-wide world. And what I want to say now this morning – and it’ll be just as cool and encouraging posted tomorrow – is to report a distinct and clear sense I had a while back there in the Encinitas room earlier today of being okay. Being alright. Cared for and looked after. I felt it and I knew it, and any worries and cousins of angsts hovering about these last few days and weeks were gone in that moment. Floated up and fizzled away. This is gratitude as I experience it.

I’ll be living somewhere else soon enough and it’ll be cool and I’ll be alright, how could it be any other way with the friends I have and the grinning Universe and, duh, two boogie boards. Such an amazingly generous world, my sliver of it. Hiccups and all.