I think I am beginning to see the wisdom of the Universe in placing all these delays. I think I am beginning to remember who I used to be—who I really am.
|The Magic Pants. Brushed denim, hot pink, hip-hugger, bell-bottoms. Now picture them with embroidered flowers, peace signs, and an earth flag, with the knees torn. Ah, youth!|
- We haven’t sold the Explorer yet because the RV is frozen in the mud and we need transportation still.
- This delay has given me time. Lots of time. Time to grieve, time to put the distance I desperately needed from someone who was very disruptive and stressful in my life. Time to really see and appreciate how much my husband takes care of things and makes thing happen. He is a master of manifestation. (See the story of the Rent Fairy below.) Time to organize and plan and pack and write and to just think! Time to be quiet. Time to meditate and get back in touch with myself. A kind of forced spiritual retreat.
- The delay forced me to re-think our travel plan. The way things are now, we won’t be traveling 2,000 miles in a month—yet. We will be traveling in familiar territory—Iowa, Wisconsin, Illinois. This will give us time to drive the RV and discover and fix any little problems that arise. Time to figure out how to use all its systems efficiently and effectively. Time to find the leak in the water tank, to learn to use the sewage system, to run the generator. And to discover any problems while we are still close to where we have support from family and friends.
- This delay also made sure that I didn’t cut all my ties to this community. I was afraid of starting completely new, of losing all the buzz and good connections I have made in the Quad Cities. This way, I can continue to be available for readings and investigations, etc.
- Now that it has been quiet and basically just Rick and I together here in this echoing house, I have begun to rediscover me.
- I remembered today that I used to be the girl who had a pair of “magic pants.” They were pink and bell-bottomed and I had embroidered on them and put patches on them (it was the early 70s, after all). (Hot pink, hip-hugger, bell-bottoms. I have a picture of me in them, but the photos are in storage at the moment.) Money multiplied in my pocket. Literally. Every time I had folding money and I put it in my pocket in those pants, I always ended up with more than when I started. I would break a bill (usually a $1 bill) and put the change in the front pocket. I never spent the change, just broke another bill. Then, at the end of the day or the journey, I would empty the pockets and have as much, if not more, than I started with. It was truly a manifestation of Divine Abundance. I need to remember how to have magic pockets again.
- I was the girl who regularly and optimistically declared that “Blessings really do fall from the sky.” And I believed it. And they did. Others thought I was silly, and eventually I was cowed into being less magical. Now I know I was right all along. Blessings really do fall from the sky. Every day. Blessed surprises from heaven.
- I remember, too, that I was always self-sufficient. If I had a goal, I could make it happen. At age 14, I saved enough money from odd jobs and babysitting to pay for my own ticket to Skaneateles, New York, to spend the summer with my cousins in a beautiful town in upstate New York, swimming, sailing, fishing, making new friends, playing outdoors with my cousins. And I made it happen because I didn’t want to spend the summer in the dirty, crowded, dangerous, hot city.
- At 16, I saved enough money to pay for a trip to Greece! Our school had a class trip planned and I earned enough to pay for the trip and spending money, too. Unfortunately, it was 1973, and the oil embargo caused severe oil shortages. The school decided to save fuel by cancelling our trip. (Thank you, Mr. Nixon!) Otherwise, I would have spent my seventeenth birthday in Athens. (Sigh…)
So, I am beginning again to rediscover my own capacity to see the potential good in what seems to be frustrations and delays. And I know, in my heart of hearts, that this attitude is the real me, and it is the attitude that makes life a happy thing. Thank you, Abundant Universe!
The Rent Fairy
Rick and I were first together (actually back together after a 3-month breakup). We were living in a rent-by-the-week cottage in a former migrant worker camp turned “motel” called Baker’s Acre in Tempe, Arizona. We were recovering from homelessness, and I had recently taken a job in a resume office. But I wasn’t making enough money to pay the rent alone. The first two weeks, I managed, but the third or fourth week, I came up short. During the entire time we were there, I kept telling him, “I need you to go to work!” I was determined not to have another deadbeat man in my life. But Rick, Buddha that he is, was confident, certain the Universe would provide. I was mad, because rent day came due and we didn’t have enough money. This was a place that could evict us in 24 hours.
I came home from work that day we had a fight. I was ranting and raving about being responsible and why hadn’t he found work yet and then the remark that I thought was very pointed and clever. “Where did you think the money was going to come from, Rick? The rent fairy?”
He left—I presumed to walk off and stew for awhile. About half an hour later, he returned and handed me a check made out to Baker’s Acre for the rent.
Amazed, I asked him. “Where did you get this?” He grinned and answered, “The rent fairy!”
A friend of his, whom he had helped many times in the past had recently come into a sum of money and she loaned it to him. Bibbity-bobbity-boo. Blessings really do fall from the sky—when you expect them to.