Your money or your faith

A friend recommended I read a book by Jean Shinoda Bolen called Crones Don't Whine, so of course, now that I'm reading it, I'm very tempted to whine; I always was a stubborn and contrary child!

By now you've probably realized my husband was laid off two years ago and still hasn't found a job (nor have I, despite heading bravely off to school to learn new skills).  But that's not what I'm whining about -- it's been a challenging couple of years, but it's also mostly fun having him around...

And maybe this isn't really a whine.  But when I was creating images a couple of days ago, this one emerged.  I mostly just go where they take me, but this one took me to Italy -- Tuscany, to be exact -- and I just followed right along, layering pictures from our trip there and even adding a map.

So the truth is, although I am a decidedly rural person and Tuscany was quite lovely, I'm even more partial to islands.  So what I truly miss about not having the money to travel is Venice, and Capri, and Burano.  See what I mean?  It's not a whine, exactly; more a fond reminiscence -- I feel incredibly lucky to have been able to go to Italy at all, ever; I had never even been out of the country until I was 50, so Italy was QUITE the grand adventure!  And SO BEAUTIFUL.

I wonder if that's why these images have been so lush and satisfying -- some part of me is trying to provide that sumptuous Italian feel, those visuals my eye still hungers for...

It's amazing, you know, the messages our bodies send us if we take time to listen or indulge them.  I keep thinking of my coffee date yesterday, with a friend whose job is also on the line, and how every part of her seemed to be in motion.  Words couldn't calm her, touch was temporary, and hugs, though satisfying, were clearly not likely to have a lasting effect.  Her whole body was saying, "Emergency! Emergency!  Don't just sit there, DO SOMETHING!"

Jack Kornfield tells us, in The Wise Heart, that mindfulness and attention will actually help put some of that activity to rest.  But having had a few panic attacks myself over the years, I wonder how much that can actually help.  Mostly it seems like we just have to live with the fear, acknowledge it, act on it as best we can, and trust that "this, too, shall pass."

But of course, that takes faith.  And faith, it seems to me, is in short supply these days... kind of like money.  But if I have to choose between the two, I think I'll keep picking faith -- somehow I think, in the long run, it will prove to be more useful.