You’re Gonna Need a Bigger Bucket

The TrinityA few months ago I sat by the river and had a lovely lunch with one of my dearest, most funnest, supremely wisest and wackiest of friends Dianne. (She has a newly released book—more later.)

When we get together, we talk about everything under the sun, beyond the stars and inside the deep dark of our belly buttons. I am never the same after one of our navel gazing star-walking chatabouts. She never fails to bring some otherworldly perspective that brings out the very best in me. It is, after all, why they call her Starwalker. Everyone needs a Dianne in her life.

ANYHOO. We were talking about the nature of the universe, possibility, probability and other surface crap like that, when the subject turned to my recent struggles with believing that the universe really had my back.

Being a recovering perfectionist, I drift from time to time into frantically trying to figure out all the hows on the way to my whats. And since my whats had also been unclear, my hows were all catywampus, tangled up and flung like spaghetti all over my map. I guess you might say I had been feeling a bit confused and curbobulated. I get that way sometimes.

She said many interesting things—she always does—but one thing in particular rang the bell of my heart, and it’s still resonating today.

“Kathy, you have been dipping into the great sea of potentiality with a thimble. You gotta get yourself a bigger bucket.”

We sat quietly, gazing at the gigantic water that was flowing past us. It churned and chortled and filled the air with great guffaws as it joyfully surged past us, with nary a care for the huge boulders it so easily made its way around. Lately, I had been slamming head-on into the boulders that came across my path.

I pictured myself sitting on the edge of a well that was big enough to contain the universe, lowering my miniscule thimble, which hung at the end of a very long piece of dental floss. My bucket was tiny and so was I.

“Yep. I gotta get me a bigger bucket.” I echoed.

Sometimes a truth is spoken, and it puts an end to all other words.

Kathy on a bucket.I’ve been thinking about possibility.

I’ve been thinking about abundance.

I’ve been thinking about all the love there is, and wondering how it is that I get to questioning whether things will go well with me. I wonder why I am prone to trading in my bucket for a thimble.

I only need close my eyes for a few moments, conjure the vast blessings I’ve seen in my lifetime—even the ones that were wrapped in difficult happenings—and the questioning is assuaged. Every time I do this, I check my bucket and lo and behold… it has grown.


Keep me posted!


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