The Universe has sent me many lessons lately, both good and bad.
It came crashing in on me this morning.
My mother used to say I looked like Rumpelstiltskin, when the World crashed for me, with a tantrum of epic proportions. She maintained I was capable of this until she died.
Deep inside, I know she was right.
It's been a stressful month, this month of August in 2007. On the night my mother died, I received a message from the bank telling me my account had been frozen; my account had been scammed. There would be an investigation. I would have to put in a claim immediately.
Along with the hole my Mom's death left in my heart, another hole was added to my solar plexus, with this theft and violation.
I felt powerless.
And then...an attack of Rheumatoid, directly due to stress. But I weathered all those things; storms didn't erupt...I allowed grief to flow and let things go...
But this morning...this morning didn't go so well. The Government, in all its unfound wisdom, has decided to create something they call Complex Care. For me, this means I must have blood tests every three months. Which means I have to fast, because I am a Type 2 Diabetic. This means I have to get to the Lab when it opens, along with all the other many, many people who are also Complex Care patients, who also have three things that the Government wants to monitor.
These are on top of the patients who only require one fasting blood test, who are all waiting there, as well.
I went to the laboratory twenty minutes before they opened; I waited for almost two hours, before my blood was taken.
Before I had my morning coffee.
Mostly, I use these wait times, times when I'm in a queue, for people watching, telling myself stories about them. Usually, I have no trouble amusing myself.
But all these people who were waiting with me had also fasted, were also in a strange frame of mind. Tempers were short and patience was very, very thin.
A wee toddler, who looked like an absolute angel, had the lungs of an elephant, when she discovered what she was there for. It took the two lab technicians a long time before they could take blood from this tiny tiger, who fought like a demon...both women looked a little tousled when they finally finished.
The negative energy was catching. I was caught unaware; I had not shielded properly and I was bombarded by huge amounts of anxiety, fear, and anger from all directions.
And so, inside my head, I flayed the Government...it seemed safe. Everybody does it. I worked myself into a fine old frenzy, imagining all sorts of ways to bring down a regime that would put profits first. And inconvenience me, on top of it all.
By doing this, of course, I fueled my anger, my desire to jump up and down, and say...Listen to me, all of you!... pulling a Rumpelstiltskin. I added a few chunks of frustration to the flame, by thinking of all the things I could be doing, if the Government...and on and on.
My name was called.
By this time, my body had taken on the shape of the chair, and I walked very slowly towards the inner sanctum of the Lab. A very Crabby Lady, one grumpier than even me, one who had been berating the man next to her for quite some time, suggested if I hurried a bit more, everybody would be able to leave that much sooner.
The room hushed. I stopped, a haze of red slowly descending over me. I could feel the crowd behind me wanting some diversion, some excitement to the seemingly never ending wait. Behind me, I heard two elderly gentlemen whisper to each other...Cat Fight!...with a certain amount of glee.
I fought the red Tide. I fought for balance, I called for help from my guides...
I straightened, as much as I am ever able to straighten, lifted my chin, turned and said...Good morning! with a smile that did not reach my eyes, and carried on.
There was a collective sigh from the crowd; the hum of conversation returned, the impending excitement diverted.
After an extremely rushed and harried technician took what seemed to be a hundred vials of my blood, I walked back through the waiting room; my smile real this time.
My equilibrium had returned, and I wanted to give the Crabby Lady a true smile, but she was no longer there, only her husband, the man who had stood beside her. He returned my smile, and apologized for her ill behaviour.
And because I knew so well the frustration she had felt, I told him I understood.
I do. Only too well. A few years ago, I would have demanded to be heard, I would have complained to whomever there was to complain to. I would never have attacked another; my anger is rarely turned towards someone else directly. But the discombobulation of the morning would have certainly coloured my day.
And even in my battle for balance, I recognized the pain in Crabby Lady's eyes...a huge amount of pain.
Seeing the World through that haze of pain, waiting an interminable time, facing a crisis... it must have been excruciating for her. I do hope they allowed her to jump the queue.
And I went home, to my cup of coffee, which tasted nowhere near as good as I had fantasized, during my rant to myself.
Wandering through the garden, I thanked Creator for allowing me to see the World through another woman's eyes, and seeing myself. There were huge prayers of gratitude for the balance I was given...not as much as I hope to have one day, but in this present moment, it was what I had.
And all those other things, those worrisome things that piled up, unseen and unnoticed little parcels of grief and loss of trust...well.
I let them go a further few miles.
It's just life, after all.