Lately, I have been on edge.
Living in Denver has made me feel a little claustrophobic. I listen to news stories about the saturated real estate market, I work at a homeless shelter where I field dozens of calls about shelter and housing (none of which is available), I sit in a lot of traffic, I try to park for festivals or farmer's markets and am lucky to get within a mile, I try to get a bagel and cream cheese on a Saturday morning only to face long, long lines…
Lately, my patience has been thin and things seem out of my control.
It is exactly this sentiment that has led to things being out of control. Something I have learned in my spiritual quest is...that with which I struggle will continue to manifest itself so that I learn from it. And, events in life being outside of my control is something I struggle with. I want things to go my way, always, and when they don't I kinda lose my mind.
And, that lesson, once again, decided to meet me on my "two roads diverged in a wood" path. I left for the final grief group I have been running this past month around 4:45pm. As I hit Quebec and Alameda, the rain started, the sky darkened, and the wind picked up. As I kept driving toward Leetsdale the rain turned to hail, the roads started flooding, and I was hoping I was following tail lights okay in the dark of it all. I called Mom and Dad, screaming into the phone because I couldn't hear over the hail, "What should I do?? Should I keep driving, or pull over??" Dad confidently said, "Pull over, but in a safe spot. Don't park under a tree." So, I pulled over into a parking lot behind a building the next chance I had.
The hail blasted my car for another 15 minutes. Dad would text me any tornado warning updates. I texted my grief group co-faciliator that I couldn't make it, and to just run the group without me. I let the gravity of the situation in, knowing this was one of those make it, or break it, situations. I already had to let my grief group go…the group I have cultivated over the past 6 months, the group that I have so meticulouly planned for…the last night of the group at that, not being able to say goodbye to the amazing people who participated. I started to look around at the parking lot I was in…of all the places to pull over, probably not the best. There was a Fred Loya Law Firm, a Little Caesar's Pizza, a Fantastic Sam's barber shop, and a couple of teenagers making out under the awning in front of me. The parking lot began filling with water. Why couldn't this have been a Whole Foods parking lot? I began seeing my last meal as a Little Caesar's pizza along with a shaved haircut and decided I needed to make my move. Knowing my grief group was covered, and hoping my Subaru was up to the task, I drove through the flood waters and made my way back home. I found neighbors hanging out in the parking garage because of the tornado warning sirens, and I found my girl laying on her bed in a huff, not wanting to pay any attention to the mamas who abandoned her during the tumultuous weather and thunder that was all too assaulting on a sensitive greyhound's well-being.
That which I am trying to fight, will make its presence known until I learn from it.
I think what I learned from this is that life happens. That I need to tap into that inner stillness when all things appear chaotic. Because, truthfully, they aren't really. Things are just chaotic because they are perceived to be. Hey, my grief group members had a great group with my co-facilitator. I got home okay without my car being flooded. Rene wasn't hit by lightening. The parking garage of my condo is a safe space for escaping a tornado.
All in all, it is all good. I think. Let's see how I feel tomorrow behind that really slow car as I drive to work, 10 minutes late already.
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