Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree of Truth.

There’s no need to go begging the Gods tonight. Not for anything.

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Instead, there is a profound sense of “It’s taken care of for you.” Or maybe, “It’s being handled for you.”

Regardless of all the people who have talked down to me before, admonishing me for not trusting in the Gods enough and for wanting details and such a desperate need to  know  (ironically,  these  same  folks  found  it  easy  to preach it, but hard to live by it themselves!), tonight there is simply an easiness that’s never been there before.

It’s not  that  my  faith  is  stronger.  It’s  not  that  my magick is better. It’s not that I’ve suddenly grown up and am now on someone else’s “level” who’s spiritually more “advanced” and wants me to know it.

Though advancement and growth have certainly been there in the past 6 months and exponentially accelerated in the past 6 weeks!

It’s a quiet and steady knowing that things will work out. The  growth  that wasn’t there before has advanced the timeline.  Not just in  me, but in others around me. Events that                  couldn’t                have                      happened                   before                   have launched  new  possibilities,  raised  probabilities,  nudged things into place.  That which could not have occurred with joy and ease is now finally clicking into place.

The past few weeks have been those series of clicks, one after  another. I can feel them, almost hear them as they click…click…click  like  the notches on a star gate of sorts. Something big is about to open and I’m at the place now where I’m ready to step through into a new life, one that’s been worth the wait.

Tonight as I did a quick pick-up around the house to prepare for the new workweek, I absentmindedly  considered how  content  I’m feeling.  Yes, there is very much work to do and it will get done, and yes, this week will be a rough one where I’ll need some  distractions,  but I’m really in the moment and…content.

Content. No other  word will suffice.  That’s what  I was thinking as I walked through the house, pausing to light a stick of dragon’s blood incense and arrange a few special cards on my Light  Altar.  I have found contentment without so many things that the people in my environment have considered necessary to be content: a promotion, a raise, an award, a book contract, a spot on the bestseller list, a  new baby, a new home, and—the most loathsome that’s been insisted I needed—a new man.

Yeah, I’m happy and I don’t have a man. Hey, imagine that. I’m just truly happy with me and with being me. As content as I have ever been.

Yes, that’s what I was thinking as I sang to the music playing over  my iPod’s JBL loudspeaker system. Jenifer McLaren’s “Quiet Heart.” So would it be a shame if I left with a quiet heart? Doesn’t it feel like my heart is quieter and less restless now?  Don’t I feel truly loved?

“Mommy!” Shannon  stood  in the hall and grinned. “That’s so different!”

“What  is?”          I  asked,  lighting  a         candle on my “unconditional love” pyramid.  She’s seen me light those candles since April of last year, usually one each night to send my best wishes out into the world. What could be different about that?

“You’re singing,” she said. “All these years, I’ve never heard you walk through the house singing.”

I’d forgotten. I stopped singing at home long ago as a deterrent to the complaints. Tonight, it came openly and easily, with no thought to  criticism. It just was, and it’s something I’m embracing as it comes back into my life.


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