Revelation in the (almost) Dark

I'm sitting here in a nearly dark room, waxing philosophical.

I can't help but think that I put myself in the dark here. Apparently Money isn't the only think that loves speed.

Hang on, let me back up a bit.

You've probably heard me talk about this before: Money loves speed. When you get a fabulous idea or a delicious opportunity comes your way, the time to take action is RIGHT NOW -- when you snooze, you lose. And next thing you know, you see a commercial for YOUR idea (that someone else is now selling and profiting from -- someone who took action immediately!) or you find yourself stuck in the place 1, 2 or 10 years later, when the SAME delicious opportunity comes knocking again. Either way, you're kicking yourself for not taking action in the first place.

OK, so that's my money-loves-speed speech in a nutshell. But that's not what I want to talk about today -- today I'm talking about what's got me sitting in the near-dark here.

The Universe loves speed. Which is exactly why I'm sitting in the dark.

A few weeks ago, one of the light bulbs in my home office overhead ceiling fan/light burned out. I was busy at the time, so I didn't change it. I mentioned it to my husband, and he hunted down a spare bulb, but never got the ladder that's required to actually change out the bulb.

Today, I walked into my office to do some work and oh, look -- it's DARK in here, and the light switch is already on. Which means the other bulb has also burned out.

Bummer. So now I'm only using the light from my corner torchiere lamp, which isn't nearly enough for my tastes.

But what does this have to do with the "Universe loves speed"? So glad you asked.

It's all about what my friend Jeannette Maw likes to call "tolerations." See, I tolerated the partial light I received when the first bulb burned out. And I didn't take immediate action to rectify it. Now, I've got to replace the bulbs, because if I don't, and the corner torchiere lamp decides to burn out or stop working, I'm S.O.L. I'll be in the pitch dark and unable to work in this room except during daylight hours (which is when I'm usually out playing).

How quickly do you repair or replace something that's broken? It's really not a question of time -- it's a question of discipline and tolerance -- how long are you willing to tolerate that sticky door or the squeaky chair or the eyeglasses with the lens that keeps popping out?

How long have you had that neckache? That foot pain? Wrist soreness?

How long has that favorite shirt been sitting in your closet because it's missing a button?

These are very simple, everyday examples of things that we tolerate.

Right now, I have a broken fountain sitting on my foyer table. It stopped working about a month ago, and I haven't replaced it yet.

Yesterday, I got a message that it's time to replace the fountain. I went shopping today, but didn't shop for fountains, and so I got a second nudge: no light in my office.

My environment is trying to tell me that I need to pay attention and take care of it.

I happen to beleive that when we take care of our environment, it will take care of us. My home cannot support me fully, because I am willing to tolerate all sorts of little irritations like a fountain that doesn't work, a working room that is dark, and oh by the way, I haven't cut the pad to fit under that new throw rug I bought the other day, so it's a bit slippery in the meantime.

Does someone have to fall and get injured to get your attention? Let's hope not.

I know I'm sitting up and listening now, and I hope you are too. Now I gotta go -- there are light bulbs that need a-changin'

QoD: What tolerations or irritations are you neglecting right now? How long would it take you right now to go take care of them and get it handled? What exactly are you waiting for?

Oh, just go do it already! You'll thank me later.