Yesterday's Instagram prompt for a monthly challenge I'm participating in was A S i m p l y M a g i c a l M o m e n t. It's been a rough week. In my top three kind of rough. It's not death or divorce, but it sure feels like it. As you can imagine, I've not been feeling awash in moments of magic, and yet they were there. They're always there. I'm finally noticing them again. It's near impossible to feel, see or move toward the light when you are angry or sad, but it's what we must do if we want to be the light. I want to be the light.
Sometimes these reminders come in the form of a shiny penny on the floor as you close a chapter in your career. I'm that person who stops to pick up any and every discarded penny I see. Yes, even when I'm on a busy street or in a crowded place. I'm not saying I invest in their promise of luck, but I'm not saying I don't. My things were all packed up Tuesday and I was ready to get on my way, and that penny nearly blinded me as I took one last look at my space. It seemed important that near worthless piece of copper. It felt like a beacon...a lifeline...a nod. How could I leave it lying there?
The other day I picked up All These Wonders only to find just the message I needed. Now, this book is full of story gems and they all deliver worthy messages so the fact that I received words of wisdom is not the uncanny surprise. I've been randomly reading these stories and I finally decided to read the first tale. On the first page, I was shaking my head when I read, "Fear pervades everything: where you live, what you do for a living. You find the first solid thing, and you don't risk going any further." The magic moment was picking the story that spoke to me clearly at that precise moment. It was a hug. A hug I very much needed.
There was a rainbow in the sky earlier this week, and also on my phone. My friend texted me a picture of the colorful fata morgana just as I was admiring it. It felt like hope shining down on me. It was much more to me than a band of color. It was a premonition of purpose. Later in the day she sent me another picture of another rainbow. One for each of us.
Last night the van died when Teddy went to pick up Lily from basketball practice at school. The phone rang shortly after he left and before I answered it, I prayed that it wasn't Teddy with bad news. Then I called my husband who was on his way up north and I screamed like a madwoman. I'm sorry love. You need to know this has much to do with the fact that every.single.time he travels, something sizable goes wrong, and also of course, the fact that I've had a royally s#$!!? week. I was in the middle of making dinner, but luckily I regained the sense of mind to turn off all three pots on the stove. Then I got in my son's car to come to their rescue, and it didn't start. I started to cry. I looked up and I'm pretty sure I begged more than I prayed, and I tried again. The Saab started. I practiced meditative breathing on the way to the school, and I called AAA to order a tow. I went to the worst places because that's the kind of week I've had. I knew it had to be something major. The very nice AAA operator told me we were priority and that we could expect service at 7:00. It was 5 o'clock. I found my kids in the car working together on Lily's math homework in the now deserted pick-up line no worse for the wear. Shortly thereafter we got an update that Jimmy's Towing would be on the scene at 6:00. He was given the wrong address and was driving around the unlit, windy streets in his big rig, but he didn't give up. He found us at 6:10. I told him what happened and he took one look at Teddy and then asked him if he was listening to music with the car off. Teddy affirmed his suspicions and he checked the battery. Dead. He jumped us. The White Whale was back in business for a $20 tip. I thanked him profusely and shared a little bit about my week with him hoping to explain just how much his kindness and assistance meant to me especially at this time. We spent a few minutes talking...really connecting despite the fact that we'll never likely see one another again. On the way home, I laughed.
The end.
No comments:
Post a Comment