Hey God,

As a kid, I loved my Roy Rogers Double R Ranch set. I could play with the ranch for hours.

I’d imagine myself on the ranch with Roy, hanging out with him.

I’d imagine myself standing beside the corral, watching the ranch hands and cowboys ride a bucking bronco.

Back in the ’90s, I made a pre-Christmas holiday trip to Lake Geneva, Wisconsin.

With my mother and my sister, Lois, on that November day, we toured the shops.

In one of the shops, I discovered a Christmas ornament . . . a cowboy riding a bucking bronco.

I was very intrigued by the ornament.

The ornament had a string that when pulled made the horse’s head and tail move up and down, synchronized in movement with the cowboy’s raised right arm.

I stood and played with the ornament for several minutes. My mother saw the big smile on my face and bought it for me.

Throughout the years, this ornament has always had a place of honor in my home and work space, serving as a reminder to me about how to ride those moments in life that my mind may label as being similar to riding a bucking bronco.

Yeah, today when I look at that cowboy . . . he seems to be sending a message that my heart is clearly hearing and responding to . . . about how best to ride those sometime-turbulent moments of life.

The cowboy on the bucking bronco is clearly focused on the present moment and is not letting himself be distracted by the chatter of a doubting mind.

The story I tell myself is:

This cowboy is succeeding in riding the bucking bronco because he’s telling himself  the same story that the Little Engine That Could told itself . . .

I think I can.

I think I can.

I think I can.

I am.

And so today . . . right now . . . I am affirming . . . this is my Act 3 story.

I’m creating a storyline to tell myself that promotes good health, wealth, and happiness . . .

And an abundance of loving, caring, and sharing . . .

And riches for living throughout my life’s final act.

Loving You,

Robert, aka Bob