I’m now living the life that happened while I was busy making other plans. You know, as an old, over-thrifty divorced broad who thought she was building financial security for 25 years. But I’m trying to be positive, like John Lennon.

I’m trying to think of finances the way George Bailey did at the end of the movie when the continual additions to the ringing cash register gave Clarence his wings, rather than the way the wingless angel was told by a suicide attempter that money “comes in pretty handy down here, Bub.”

I’m trying to feel like the Lilies of the Field or the Birds of the Air.

Claudia: Do I have to wear this jacket to the job interview when it’s 99 degrees plus humidity?

Lily of the Field: Shall I spend the day looking beautiful without any effort in any weather, woofing down all the soil nutrients I want and photosynthesizing ‘til I puke?

Claudia: Will buying the sugar for the hummingbird feeder water and this bag of bird seed put me over the top and get me thrown into debtor’s prison when I can’t pay my bills?

Bird of the Air: And when will you be mowing this area again to make the worm buffet easier to peck?

I woke up today riddled with What if?s. I plucked the spent Daylily blooms from my vase. When I put the dog out, I found a dead robin, and wondered how he died as I moved his body away from patio area. A lily can trust a lily world. A bird can trust a bird world. Lilies and robins aren’t plagued by the What if?s.

Lennon and Jesus didn’t seem to dwell on them. Frank Capra knew there were Miss Davises who, in the spirit of cooperation, will only take $17.50 from the pot. Can I, too, dare to trust that the world is big enough to kindly handle the complexity of a human’s world?

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