“you say you’ll give me…a harbour in the tempest” ~ U2
Fuck that, life became the perfect storm. Low and high pressure systems clashing over a level playing field.
Making wishes on forks of lighting, answering rolls of thunder.
It all started with a pharmacist.
I was making a rather large and decidedly odd purchase at a drug store, getting rung through, she first praised my vitamin habits, she then asked me “Do you have a Points card?”
Her: Why not?
Me: Do you want the real answer?
Her: (eyebrow cocked with curiosity) Yes, yes I do.
I launch into this speech about how all my shit was in storage for 2 years including a seldom used purse containing my Points Card and when I finally retrieved my shit, my points disappeared and I’ve spent the last 2+ years being mad about it.
Her eyebrow remained cocked. We exchanged mutual smirks. Oh ya that sounded sooooooooooo ridiculous out loud. We both laughed at me. I deserved it.
That is not who I am anymore. I locked that girl in storage when I liberated my things. How the fuck did she get out?
Her: “Fuck that shit Mama, THIS is your new life, starting now. Here, fill this out.”
I felt like I was signing a sacred contract.
I left with a paper bag of vitamins and a grin so big it hurt my cheeks.
She was the lightbulb that came on and illuminated everything.
I had two years in Narnia, playing the Hermit. It was time to draw a new card.
Wanted a new truck…mine got smashed. Wish granted.
Wanted a new house so I could be around people again, save time and money, got it.
The spillover from calling God up and saying “all of the new please”?
Points card and attitude adjustment…check.
Lost my bank card in a tornado…easy-peasy, replaced.
Hoops = jumped.
I made a decision. I had no idea what the consequences would be.
But when do I ever really? I ask and I receive, THOROUGHLY, this is the whole of the law.
Seems my telephone to God is no longer of the broken variety.
I don’t think it ever was, just that the signs were hard to read with these heavy veils of human dramatic distractions blurring my vision, my Babel-Fish malfunctioning, or my ears were just so full of the bullshit I let in.
With all of these things cleared away, I am heard, and answered verbatim with alarming clarity. I love it.
The storm is passing. I am surveying my surroundings and I am blissed the fuck out.
This nest I made…perfection. It will take a magical crow bar to pry me loose from this life I created.
I will orchestrate my own storms and watch them play out from my calm center.
I looked at every single thing I owned, everything I was, everyone around me.
Took what gave me goosebumps, brought me comfort and joy, things and those who teach me, and tossed the rest. Handed out a few ‘get out of jail free’ cards, just to see what would happen. And if they were squandered…meh. So be it. I am much too excited about the future to drag around the past.
Shiva reveals that he is most comfortable with her Kali form, in which she is bereft of her jewellery, her human-form, her clothes, her emotions and where she is only raw, chaotic energy, where she is as terrible as time itself and even greater than time. (source, Wikipedia)
I embraced the chaos in a way that I became it. Tempestuous tempest.