I’m thinking tonight about things I want more of in my life.
I want more afternoons like yesterday, when I went to tea and was enchanted with the place, the company and the experience.
I want more time for meditation, introspection and art. So much of my life is wrapped up in house things at the moment that it there’s not enough time for those other things.
I want to explore more energy healing. My healer is coming to town in February and I’ve already booked an appointment with her. She will be teaching a class but I’m not sure what it will be yet.
I want more travel – some alone – for thinking and exploring in my own ways.
I want more love. Doesn’t everyone? I’m still not ready for another relationship, but I need more love in my life.
I want more friends. I want more time with friends in my life. Some friends I never see enough of.
I want more money. Enough that I don’t have to think about it.
I want more great books. I just finished “Running with Scissors,” which I highly recommend.
I want contentment. How ironic is that?