This morning, after a leisurely bike ride, G and I went to our favorite coffee shop for breakfast. We also took a friend with us–the same lady who had forwarded me the prayer for the Gulf in the last post. We had been at her house last week for fire ceremony also for the Gulf and at that time found out that her car had been totaled the week before when she was getting a massage. Someone crashed into it while she was on the table. How’s THAT for a rude awakening? Anyway, her husband was out of town at a workshop, so we told her we’d pick her up and go to the coffee shop this week on my day off, since she’d been craving a scone.
This lady was one of the participants in the vision quest that G and I went on 3 summers ago. I mentioned last week that it had been exactly 3 years since we had done it, and none of us could really believe it. It still doesn’t seem possible it’s been that long, yet here I am, 3 years later. We chatted about the stuff with her car, and she said that over the span of about 3 days, she went through the entire “classic” grieving process, from numbness to denial to anger and then to acceptance. She said she had had a very specific plan that included that car about her financial progress for the next couple of years which of course was blown out of the water by the accident.
We chatted about how lucky it was that she hadn’t been in the car when the accident happened and also that the other driver had only been shaken up and not seriously hurt. She said that’s what had put her into acceptance so quickly–she realized on the 3rd day of her “funk” that her car had, in effect, “taken a hit” for her. Suddenly, the loss of the car didn’t seem so important in the greater scheme of things.
Once upon a time, I went to a S/F convention in Cleveland, OH. This was before circus, husband, kid, etc. I went there alone, specifically to meet an author that I admired, who had started an entire “alternate universe” St@r Trek phenomenon that dealt with the life and culture of the planet Vulcan, home to Mr. Sp0ck. She had also had another s/f series published having nothing to do with Trek, but I was in the process of having a story possibly accepted by her and her collaborators, so I wanted to meet her.
Meet her I did. I ended up in her hotel room with a few other fans, on a Friday night. She, being a practicing Jew, lit Shabbat candles in the room and then did tarot readings for a number of folks, myself included. I have never forgotten that reading. I don’t remember the exact cards, but her words are firmly in my mind. She told me that soon, I would make a decision that I would be absolutely, firmly convinced was the right thing; that I would hold this conviction against many odds, but that after all was said and done, would probably be the worst thing that I could do for myself. However, she also said that end the end, things would come right again, and when I looked back on it, I would be grateful.
Less than a year after that, I would meet my first husband, fall under a “spell” and toss every sane thought I ever had in the trash to marry him against the protests of nearly everyone I knew. At the time, I was convinced I was “doing the right thing”. It wasn’t until years later that something reminded me of that fateful tarot reading and mentally, my jaw dropped.
Today, I actually bless my first husband. What I learned about myself, my strength, my faith, my ability to handle crisis after crisis after crisis, to be afraid and push it aside to carry on anyway, I pretty much owe all to him. If I hadn’t encountered him when I did, I might have had to wait until much later to try to learn those lessons and might not have done so well in the end.
Sometimes, the things we fear the most are the thing we need the most to make us become who we are really meant to be. When we are in these kinds of “crucibles” we are usually so caught up in the constant drama of our lives at the time that we don’t notice how we are being formed, and most of the time, it’s only months and sometimes years later that we realize despite the pain and angst of tough times, we wouldn’t be nearly the people we are without them.
Even the small bumps in the road that G and I have been navigating recently are an example. Just a couple of weeks ago, I was nearly pulling my hair out, but now I can just glance back and realize that this was probably a necessary “growth spurt” in our relationship. So, I bless those few weeks of chaos and disconnection, even though I sure don’t want to have a repeat any time soon.
G always says that for every “negative” that happens to you, there’s 3 positives that you can get out of it. When I first met her, I wasn’t so sure, but the longer I think about it, the more I realize she’s right.
Blessing the “hard times”,