It always works out

I finally did it. I left my percussor behind in a hotel seminar room. It was a bit of a mad-dash-out-the-door, and there it sat under the table. Yikes! Thankfully I was going to lend it to chiro-sister Ruthie so I was looking for it when we were unloading her stuff into her car when we got back to Mum's.

Here's the thing, and it's just a belief I have, but it's useful:

It always works out.

No matter what "it" is. If I can't find the positive right away, I'll look harder. It's there waiting to be discovered. Everything has a lesson in it. [Like: where in the Land of Duh am I living that my cell phone number isn't scrawled all over it?!] There is no disaster that doesn't bring out the inherent goodness in people. Little ones, big ones, natural, man-made. People step up. Like Meaghan at the Hilton Harrisburg who's UPSing my percussor back to me. Worthy of a Borders gift card, don't you think?

And if I lost my percussor? Well then. I get the newer, smaller, quieter version. Eventually.