She’s right you know.  I am not really caring about things.  I’d rather spend money than worry about it.  I’d rather eat food that pretends to taste good than consciously prepare nourishing fuel.  I’m in the mood to pout rather than set intentions and practice affirmations.

Stuck in the middle of the 9 of Wands–slowly making my way across waters.  I’m not in a storm, but the fog isolates me.  I have set my sails and bow towards the scent of a new land, but it still is so much of a story.  Often my little boat just drifts in the middle of this deep emotion, a raft that is lost without anchor.

But I cannot sink.  No loss of work, no averted eyes, no shudder of a former colleague can pull me to the dark cold depths of the ocean of despair.  For You are there with Your rudder and oar to guide me.  You lead me in purposeful currents towards the land of milk and honey.  You anoint my head with perfumed oil of resiliency.  You restore and refresh my soul.

Surely goodness and kindness will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of my Lady forever more.