I’ve been working with the spiritual principle “everything I need is right here right now.” It’s radical and therefore easy to reject with conjectured examples of approaching tigers or retreating livelihoods. But what about applying it right here, right now standing in the middle of life’s road? 

This isn’t so much about magic as it is about the magic of being open. How many times have I noticed after the fact (and with a serving of chagrin) that what I needed was within easy reach? (The “I could have had a V-8!” effect.) And how often was that something not outside me, but within me? (The “why didn’t I think of that?!” effect.)

So I’m willing to entertain the possibility that whatever I need – be it an idea, the right person to call, an inspiration, a skill, a memory, boards in trees, an instinct, letting go, a shift of attitude, an offer of help … is available when I need it. Ah, so you’re wondering about those “boards in trees…”

If you’ve been following this blog, you know that one of my needs was a storage shed. My friend, Sandi, found a foundation kit that fit the shed at Costco, which promised to save us a ton of time and labor. But what neither of us understood, until we opened the box, was that this foundation required a frame that came with the metal shed for which it was designed—and wouldn’t work with our vinyl one. Alas, we would have to start from scratch.

If I told you the whole story of our labors, it would so far exceed blog limits that the blog police would be obliged to hunt me down and fine me. But here’s what I can tell you: the process involved cutting out a shrub, a roto-tiller, a rake, a level (which I came to both despise and mistrust), crushed granite, pea gravel, a measuring tape, large quantities of iced chai tea, a wheel barrow, two hammers, two tarps, one moisture barrier, boards from the backyard wood pile, a skill saw, a regular saw, gloves, nails, bricks, and one rock (don’t ask).

Every time we were stumped, stuck, or on the edge of making a trip to Home Depot, we looked around. And when our project stalled out for lack of proper boardage, we looked around again. Sitting in the old oak tree were three boards of exactly the right length, fastened together on the ends with cross boards. It was so close to perfect that it worked just fine!

But here’s the best part. We were what we needed right here right now. Despite the challenge, the frustration, and the weariness, we stayed present, spoke kindly, and laughed at ourselves. A sturdy shed sits on an even sturdier foundation at the far end of Sandi’s acreage, holding all my belongings. But this friendship will outlast them all.