an act of God

for those of you who have read my blog these past few days, you know that we drove (both literally & figuratively) through a major shit & hail storm. 4 days of utter overwhelm. unbelievable.

the met-ed guy (who came to replace the down electrical wires) said to us: “yeah, yeah, that goes under an act of god.” my husband, who gets the gold star for calm & steady, said, “yeah, once, sure… but three times in two years, i’d say that goes under the act of culpability.”

and then of course, i wondered, and what if you’re a buddhist?

is it an accident? a warning? a change of karma? a time of reflection? a tree i don’t want to sit under while i’m meditating? is it about possessions? attachment? is it that i said i need to change my life, and here i am … changing my life? is it that ken and i needed to fall more in love? is that i needed to know who my real true friends are, the one’s who called and cared and checked up? is it that my faith has wavered, and i needed to awaken to something deep inside my life? is it that i felt like i was having a nervous breakdown internally prior to everything frying externally, and therefore I am in fact a psychic & intuit? (i like that.) or is it that i need to pay more attention. more. attention. (i like that more.)

and then of course i think well yes, sure: anger, fear, doubt, worry, confusion…. it’s swirling all around. in us. outside of us. internally & externally. every which where. it’s like boiling water. the micro. the macro. the little picture, the big picture. it all starts to blend. and then…

the moment.

i’m gonna share with you the MOMENT. my moment. the ‘i fucking get it’ moment.

the crying moment.

we were waiting for the cable guy for oh i don’t know, about 9/10 hours. i of course called every 2/3 hours, asking when he was coming to replace the cable box and wires and modem… and i could tell that the very young girl on the other end of the phone (who was making believe she was a cable technician) didn’t have a clue. when she asked me one more time what it was i was requesting, i started to cry… not the snot nose, sobbing, couldn’t catch my breath type of crying, but… the “weepy, lower lip quivering, sniffling loud enough so both she on the other end of the phone and ken in the other room could hear me type of crying,” and then the cable guy showed up, and once again, the tears & weeping, “oh my god thank you, thank you,” (UGH!!!!!!!) and after he left it was the first time in my adult life that i realized that acting like a child, a little helpless person, doesn’t & didn’t help one bit.

it was between “then and there,” and “now,” that i got it.

for three days i felt like a victim. the: “this was all happening to me, us.”

no wonder i couldn’t breathe. no wonder i couldn’t write. no wonder i couldn’t & wouldn’t allow ken to hold me and kiss me and make me feel better. no wonder i couldn’t deal with the repair people in a clear way. no wonder i felt rage and anger and my skin crawling. and my heart pounding, and my blood boiling.

an act of god?
or goddess you believe in, or pray to, or have faith in?
if in fact you believe that there are great huge lessons to learn & great huge messages to listen to & great huge opportunities right there in front of you to grab hold of & a great gigantic wave of self-awareness, re-awakening that comes from paying just a bit more attention.

i don’t want to be a victim. i don’t want to play the victim, or act like a victim.

and so i left the house yesterday. i didn’t want to be the beck & call waiting girl for one more technician who didn’t have the decency to give us a two hour window, or take our phone number to let us know when in fact they would be arriving. i needed some fresh air along with a tuna salad sandwich on rye toast with some lettuce, no tomato. i went to the local diner and behind the counter was a waitress who wore three angel pins on her shirt collar, and she smiled at me, a deep lovely smile. penetrating. on the overhead TV was a breaking news story that randy quaid and his wife were arrested for squatting. how sad, i thought, how deeply sad. and then i got my sandwich and cup of chicken noodle soup, and left the diner.
at the exact moment, and i mean the exact same moment as i pressed the remote to unlock the car door:


i know, i know…
it’s enough to make you wanna frickin’ cry.

Category: Uncategorized 5 comments »

5 Responses to “an act of God”

  1. Carol

    Wow, I love when stuff like that happens, the church bells, it makes you feel like someone IS paying attention. Or is it always there and We aren’t paying attention.
    It seems that we have to be in full blown crisis mode for our senses to be heightened.
    I must remember to stop feeling like a victim. Everytime I don’t feel well, or get some new bizarre diagnoses, or I’m up to taking my seventh pill of the day, I am in control, I refuse to be a victim just because I can’t control the situation, I can still control ME.
    Thanks Amy, once again, waking up my brain! XXOOXX

  2. Barbara@TheMiddleAges

    How is it that at the exact moment you are feeling yourself the victim and wondering why life is so unfair, so … difficult, and things get so frowsy and mixed-up in your mind that you want to cry but stop yourself because you feel like a baby, an ungrateful but pathetically needy baby, and then you come home and, instead of doing the work you need to do to, you go first to see if there are any new blog-posts and Amy Ferris’s comes up and you think, oh just a few more minutes of distraction, of wallowing, and you read Amy’s post and you hear her own heart-wringing story and how she muscled through it — or opened to it — and you know you aren’t alone and that maybe, just maybe, it’s a bad day or week or month and it too shall pass and church bells have more than one way of ringing.

    🙂 thanks 🙂

  3. Madge Woods

    I blame the city for not trimming the tree so that it fell on lines and lines for not being cleared of trees. No act of god for me. I say make the insurance company crazy with wild threats and crazy behavior so it becomes a nuisance claim and they pay rather than hear your rants. So much fun anyway. Hope it call gets resolved.

  4. Hollye Dexter

    Twin lives, twin hearts.
    and Barb- you took the words right out of my mouth.
    I went on Amy’s blog this morning seeking inspiration…and sure ’nuff, there it was.

    I love that the church bells were ringing. I love that.

  5. kristine

    during our last conversation, before the earth wind and fire tuned up, you said I miss my spiritual life, I need to find a way to get back to a spiritual life. I’d say, “Welcome Back” you too a plaque of a thousand electrical plugs and made peace and harmony with them.
    When one of us listens and learns, we all listen and learn.

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