My motivation for getting out of bed today.

So I’ve been totally under the weather this week. Again.

Sigh.

It’s the same respiratory ick that dogged my footsteps (or rather, my sinuses) all during December, and apparently it’s back for more of me.

As I’ve dragged myself from one end of my tiny casa to the other, mostly in service to cleaning certain family members’ habitats or moving favorite comfy pillows from bed to couch and back again, my ability to cope with stress has declined ever further as the interior “germs versus immune system” battle continues to rage.

In other words, where at first I couldn’t read stressful articles (such as articles about politics or endangered species or why I shouldn’t drink so much caffeine), then I couldn’t even hear about them.

As of today, even thinking about stressful topics is now apparently off-limits.

I need all my remaining reserve energy for germ-fighting, and that is that.

This morning as I was laying in bed contemplating getting out of bed, my brain’s favorite stressors decided to try to sneak up on me and launch a surprise attack. 

There they were – worries about relationship, writing work, health & fitness, and finances – tiptoeing up behind me like a herd of argumentative, uncoordinated rhinoceros.

I could hear them from mental miles away.

And I apparently wasn’t having any of it. Because from deep in the recesses of something way smarter than my brain or even my mind came the thought, “You will never find sufficiency by looking there.”

Prompted for additional details, the something elaborated by saying, “It’s not in any of those things. It is particularly not in money – money and sufficiency are not the same thing at all.”

When additional information was once again requested, the something replied with a helpful visual aid.

In the visual aid, I saw myself sitting and counting – and re-counting – a stack of bills. It was the same stack I’d seen myself counting in my dream a few nights ago. Every time I would get about three-quarters of the way done with counting the stack of bills, I would lose count and lose my place and have to start all over again.

In this visual aid, I saw myself counting and counting, losing my place, starting over again, counting and counting….

It was about as cozy and reassuring as cuddling up to a pincushion. And it evoked about the same level of comfort and overall wellbeing.

Nope, I agreed, sufficiency clearly isn’t there. That – that stuff is just dollars. It is paper with green ink on it.

It can blow away with the merest whiff of wind. A few wash cycles will disintegrate it rather effectively.

And, judging by the volume of bills I’ve witnessed over the years with clear tape criss-crossing their centers, it is relatively easy to tear in half.

Money is really quite fragile when all is said and done.

But sufficiency can’t be fragile. If it was, the world would chew it up, spit it out and then start on it all over again.

Sufficiency has to be very strong to be what it is….whatever that is.

Today’s Takeaway: I think this was my third lesson in sufficiency. While I’m still not 100 percent sure what I learned, it may be that I learned definitively what sufficiency is NOT, and in a way I can completely trust. How do you understand the term “sufficiency?” Where do you find it in your own life?