Well, I wasn’t exactly not asking for anything. I mean we are moving out of our large house to a smaller yet lovely apartment on the Embarcadero and the move will be big physically and emotionally. I am leaving behind many years and many memories ……many many memories,…… also leaving behind a lot of dreams about what the future might be as I grew older, but when I went to the driveway to empty the garbage a week ago, I didn’t ask for this. I don’t think I was thinking or asking the universe for anything in particular at all but what I got ?
I got a gentle shove, well, maybe not so gentle, from some mysterious force in my life that made me trip on the driveway fall down and break my wrist and my ankle and now here I am pretty much unable to do anything for myself, so I’m here wondering how the hell the next few months of my life will go, especially with all there is to do…. Thank God for an energetic and wonderful husband who loves me enough to take care of me, while I flounder around like a useless thing.
But it is giving me plenty of time to think into experience what life is like for people who are disabled all the time. And I guess that’s a good thing. It is never a bad thing to develop more compassion for those things one rarely thinks about.
Also, I have the outlet of writing to keep my creative energies engaged and not one but two dwelling places roaming around in my brain to organize pack and furnish how the hell is all that going to get done? Well, as my husband says one step at a time, take one thing at a time and that’s another lesson. The universe may
be trying to teach me. I also think my main job is to stay above the pool of dark and negative thoughts that naturally come along with this event: I mean things happen every day to everyone whether we ask for them or not, and it brings to mind the harsh reality that we have very little control over our own lives.
Oh, I mean we scramble about furiously building illusions to help us believe we have control, but we don’t have control and that is the truth of it so, one can either protest against the gods, and how they organized the entire game, we can try to breathe , lay back with a broken, left wrist and a broken right ankle, and breathe some more. Oh yeah and trust trust that everything will work out
That’s probably the hardest thing for me: to trust. Which means this to the ultimate question : how can there be a happy life when we all know we fall down the driveway in the end?
I guess this is a good time to resort to the old adage When you get a bunch of lemons, make some lemonade, break out the ice and the vodka, and have some fun in the shade of a nearby tree.
It is a bit of a comic scene, me trying to go to the bathroom with one hand, and one working foot. So there are plenty of opportunities to laugh and laugh we must which is probably a good way for me to end this excursion into self-pity this morning to get this writing off to my partner, whose words alone will comfort me.
Oh yeah and gratitude… Let’s not forget all there is to be grateful for, like the view from my new Embarcadero flat, if I ever get to actually live in it! At this point, I’ll be just another piece of furniture that has to be moved into the new place and who gets to do all the moving? That deer and patient husband of mine.
And as the automatic dictation function on my computer types deer instead of dear, which is a comic game all its own to play around in, I’ll sign off and say waving, my good right hand. Goodbye for now.
You can expect more from this curmudgeon sitting in her chair, taking her painkillers and drinking her lemonade. You’ll be hearing from me.