The Tree Fell Down and I Snaked a Toilet!

The enormous crackle of impending doom drew my attention from the task at hand, which was to catch a two hour nap before I started my second shift. As my head lay on the pillow , I looked at the trees swaying outside my bedroom window.

They didn’t seem to be the source of the sound which was growing louder by the second. Clearly coming from a different direction my fight or flight instinct went on stand down.

My cheek nestled into the flannel case.

BOOM… the house shuddered from timber to timber.

Calmly I thought to myself "I need this nap more than I need to know what just fell down." And then I thought … good on me. Drama has no pull anymore.

What followed was two weeks of similarly defining experiences.

There was the day that contained a very sad funeral in the morning of a mid forties Dad of three suddenly killed, and two showings in the evening of a theatrical production with a message about being present in one own’s life.

There was the day I planned, for weeks, to actually take a half day off, visit with a friend I hadn’t seen in two years and then go to a baby shower for a girl I’d known since she was four even though it meant being out way too late on a work night and every minute counts right now with work … and I’d spent the previous afternoon and evening accepting the spontaneous gift of movie and a dinner from another friend. Fun two days in a row?!!!

The afternoon of attending the Parkinson’s Dance class surprised me with involuntary tears of joy as I rediscovered my soul’s lost corner. I don’t have Parkinson’s but the crippling effect of the accident which injured me as a child leaves me with the opportunity to benefit from a dance class taught with complete traditional technique in adaptable ways. We learned whole routine from West Side Story; the musical in which I sang my first semi pro solo. I was the girl who sang, "Somewhere".

And last there was the weekend revelation that I am one of the world’s working poor because I put my heart into money issues. I don’t have enough of a cutting edge. I’m too accommodating of situations. I have, and enjoy having, an enormous empathy with the world and tolerate the intolerable repeatedly. But I have to make more money so what do I do with my heart?

What do you do with your heart about money?

Most others leave their heart out of money. Money and their heart are separate. But my wise stepfather George taught me money is just energy.

The heart produces love. Love is energy. That old saying is true. You can find what you do and find a way to make money at it and put the two together. But a verse in Proverbs says "Make me neither rich so I forget you O God, nor poor so I am tempted to steal. Give me only my daily bread."

It caused me to realize that I have been ungrateful to have only my daily bread, or gas, or lights. I didn’t realize God was keeping me safe.

When I rose from my nap I saw that a miracle had occurred. The long, big, segment of a maple that was left after the other long, big, segment of the tree on the other side had come down a year and a half ago was on the ground in front of the base of the tree. For a year and a half, every time I saw that huge segment sticking up I wished I could take a chainsaw to it. It blocked the view. It stopped the flow of expanse.

Standing over the sink, there was the view I longed to see. A gift from the heavens. Or was it an invitation?

A funeral where the message was to cherish our days because we don’t know how long they will be, a show where good friends brought a book to life, recreational visits with friends where there is life giving laughter and sharing of the deepest parts of our dreams and hopes and pain, dancing from the inside of me, all give me a bigger view of beauty and peace and Joy.

I have some real challenges right now because of my big heart. After decades of having people tell me, "you are very extravagant at loving" and ‘you have a big heart’ I , myself, understand what they saw and meant and have to figure out what to do with it in regards to earning a living. The core of my being gets in the way of me providing for myself.

No questions. Just

observations. Ah… but here’s the reflection. In the middle of all that was the day I snaked the toilet. I live in an upper part of a duplex and out of courtesy for the tenant below I don’t flush much. It also makes me politically correct.

So… one day I had to learn to snake the toilet. Didn’t want to. Didn’t think I could. Resented the fact my consideration of another had caused me a problem. I think making more money will be like snaking the toilet. Yes, that’s exactly the conclusion

Love,
Deborah