a morning of contrast

Ever since re-committing to a more spiritually oriented life I've been receiving email inspiration each morning from the teachings of Abraham. Today's was, as usual, simple yet potent. Its topic was following one's bliss, and it stated that if you feel joy and speak of joy, then you're following your bliss,and therefore your life's purpose. Abraham is always reminding us that our emotions guide us if we let them, and that's how we know when we're on or off course. I'm trying to learn this lesson. I know that, regarding my #1 dilemma of the year, whenever I drive through the urban neighborhood which I think I want to move to, I feel energized, glad to be there, and generally stirred. Where I live now I feel dull, isolated, lonely, wistful.

A few short minutes after reading today's Abraham message, my child, who had been leafing through a catalog from Plow & Hearth, exclaimed, "Mama! Listen to this! They're selling a tool to get you out of a car when you're trapped inside!.......How do people get trapped inside their cars???!!"

This was a rude awakening from my Abraham-induced wonder. I took the catalog from the incredulous child and examined the ad for the "Lifehammer" tool. Like the child, I couldn't imagine how people became trapped inside cars. We laughed about the silly notion at first, until I read the explanation. This tool is intended for people trapped inside a wrecked vehicle. The LifeHammer will slice through a locked seatbelt with its protected razor, then smash out the window with the precision steel, double headed hammer. There is also a key chain version of this tool which you can carry with you at all times to ward of any and all unforseen disasters.

All I can say is, I'm glad that I'm not fear-based enough to be a candidate for the Lifehammer. Good heavens. Every choice we make determines the course and quality of our lives. What kind of message do the buyers of LifeHammer send to the universe? I choose to recycle the catalog and head out to the college art museum, throwing caution to the wind, inviting joy, not tragedy.