On The Whir of a Hummingbird's Wings

The time had come to make a rather weighty decision.  Please allow me to clarify: weighty in my own little world.  I'm a hemmer and a hawer.  Despite the fact that I almost always have an opinion or a feeling, I like to shilly shally.  I tend to fudge and mudge.  I often back and fill, which is all to say I'm rather prone to doubt and double thought.  I lack trust in myself and I give too much power to others.  Then the other day as I weighed the pros, cons and angles, I realized that none of that stuff mattered when measured up against the lingering feeling in my gut.  My instinct has rarely failed me, although I have most certainly failed it, and so I went with the feeling.  Before I could even sabotage my decision, which I was just about to do, a hummingbird came to visit my streptocarpella.  I recognized her rare presence as an affirmation that I had done the right thing.  Her quick, timely visit was an all's okay from my Mom who sends me the hummingbirds just when I need them to remind me that she is still with me, and also that I got this.