This afternoon The Genius lost his hummus on me. He let his anger at the mess he has created get the better of him, and I became the target of his spew. I was pretty unnerved by it.
But, out of respect for myself, I am going to write about exactly what I planned to write about and not let his actions derail me. If the following post makes absolutely no sense to me tomorrow I will publish a decoder companion book and send it out to anyone who is in the dark. In other words, I hope I can block out his negative energy, realign myself to terra firma and be moved by what I need to write. Because I really need to write.
Which is why I will be posting three times a week beginning Monday, April 2nd. Till it becomes hourly. When that happens I will also become a cat hoarder who collects newspapers, doilies and fake greenery. Posts will run down my fingers from my core and on to the pages of HGM on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. But you know I’m here all the time to talk, so don’t hesitate. I know we all have a lot to say that deserves to be heard.
Thanks to an incredible friend and mentor, I’ll call him Mr. Simplicity, I got turned on to Mike Dooley. So far I have only dabbled in his “Notes from the Universe” that I receive in my email daily. They are funny and potent – my favorite combination. Yesterday I received the following “Note from the Universe”:
Would it be enough to know, Cleo (and you can know this through deductive reasoning), that long ago, when the two of us carefully mapped out your pending adventure into the jungles of time and space: the hills and valleys you would traverse; the setbacks and advances you would encounter; the good, the bad, and the ugly, and all of the lives you would touch; when our planning was done and the “big picture” was revealed…
You burst into tears of joy, overwhelmed with its perfection and who you’d become.
Yeah, like a baby – The Universe
Really, how great is that?
I know 400,000 other people got that same note but it felt like it was written just for me and to be received yesterday. I intuitively believe what ‘The Universe’ says in that quote. I attribute my current state of being, which is fairly peaceful and happy considering the brutal circumstances, to the fact that I buy into that. Which is more than just saying, ” Everything happens for a reason.” I buy into the fact that we create our reality which is a blend of good, bad, sad, challenging, unnerving, thrilling, depressing, boring with a dash of mad, to learn. To experience. To grow.
We humans are basically ‘Sim City’ for our Souls.
So how do we so often end up where we don’t really want to be? If we create our reality, as I believe we do, why isn’t it all sparkly and magical? Perhaps because our souls are already sparkly and magical and what they really want to experience is a journey that will stretch, take hold, contort, and strain so they can expand. I imagine, to the soul, nothing is ever as good or as bad as it seems. (Another pearl of wisdom from Mr. Simplicity.) It’s all just one big opportunity to experience life. So why not have at it?
But as a person, it can seem like the world is against you as you struggle through something like a massive betrayal and you’re all alone. Why would I sit down at the beginning of my trip to the Blue Marble and plot out a life that includes something so heinous? To learn, to grow, to kick-start a new way of being. Maybe just to experience grief and then the beauty of joy after pain. Couldn’t it have been all about bubble gum ice cream without the weight gain and perfect hair?
Life is school. I’m a pupil. And so is Mr. Jackpot. We’re in the same class. We have our own unique set of circumstances, but we’re both learning the same lessons. We’ve chosen to be study partners because our strengths and weaknesses balance each other out. There’s no where to hide because we are too aware of what each other is going through. I can vent to him knowing that it’s only a matter of time before he will need to vent to me. Neither one of us holds a power position over the other. Please. We’re a split second away from crying like a puppy who had his paw flattened by the heel of a Louboutin. We’re raw, emotional and vulnerable.
Somehow that combination is working. And by working, I mean that we are accomplishing something big together by being a mirror for each other. This role could have been filled by anyone. A Mom from school, a friend from home, or a family member. Which isn’t to say that those very people aren’t freely giving of their love and support, but only Mr. Jackpot has experienced, in virtually the same time frame, the same style of betrayal as me.
I’m going to go out on a limb here and risk having you all say I have drunk the NoCal Kool-Aid when I say that Mr. Jackpot and I made a deal to meet here at this time and place to help each other out. Did I tell you he’s a ginger, too? That pretty much confirms my feeling. Us gingers stick together.
He gets it. I get him. And because we helped each other out selflessly during such a challenging time, I am confident that we will be friends forever. One day we’ll look back and marvel at how we, as pupils, became teachers for each other. There will be a bond there that won’t be broken.
I am so very grateful I met him that night back in December. Being virtually alone in Marin, it was such a gift to meet someone that is not only really fun to be with, is super smart (effortlessly answers questions like, Why do some planes trail white exhaust and others don’t? or What is The String Theory? That’s priceless.) and hilarious, but more importantly is fulfilling an instrumental role in my healing. Not because he is galloping in as the knight in shining armor to scoop me up in his broad-shouldered arms, quite the opposite. He’s coming in saying, “I’m not the knight, I’m just a guy who’s trying to understand myself better, and if you want to be completely honest with yourself then take the cubby over there. Study hall begins in 5.” And that is why I call him Mr. Jackpot.
As I said in reply to JJ’s comment to my most recent post, if Mr. Jackpot was Ms. Jackpot I would be equally as jazzed to spend time together. Although having a male perspective has been fascinating. What’s important is that I didn’t let the encounter slide. I didn’t over-think it, or push it away because of my precarious emotional situation. I took a risk. And it’s still a risk. But I’m comfortable with the risk-to-reward ratio. It’s already paid off.
I believe it’s important, as in really freaking important, that we pay attention to encounters and pursue their meaning. I’m not suggesting that if someone holds the door open for me on a Monday I should wonder what their role is in my life till Friday. But when I get a feeling in my gut, or heart, or elsewhere that causes me to pause and take particular note of someone who has crossed my path, I pay attention to it. What is the message that person is sending? (Or animal, or plant, or inanimate object.) What are they here to teach me? (Which is why I am so moved by every comment on HGM.)
Meeting Mr. Jackpot was not happenstance. No way. Mr. Jackpot is here to teach me about boundaries, letting go of judgments, how negative thoughts can be destructive if allowed to run unleashed, how sometimes the life we think we’re supposed to be living isn’t the life we designed that had us burst into tears because of its beauty before we even got here.
And how to take risks. The biggest one to date being my decision to tell The Genius about my blog. So I did.
Don’t overlook anyone who crosses your path this week. Not a soul. Trust me.