When you go from Having It All–prestige, right livelihood, family of origin, nuclear family, international work, seeing oneself as a hurdler through a hardscrabble youth to become self-made millionaire–hurdling obstacle after obstacle, with Olympian enthusiasm, maybe even with grace–to not having anything of value in the world as most of us perceive it–losing your good name due to defamation; that domino going first, pulling down everything you built for a decade after a divorce, as you lose your civil rights in court when you merely called police to report child abuse, not understanding the complexity of the local courts. meanwhile the whole country in a nonsense war base on false claims too, still going on. At a time like this, someone like me can look at the particular to the universal in one grand sweep of the lens–and think the whole world has gone to hell, and we live in it, some very few aware, and most rendered unconscious with the help of Big Pharma: all Ambiened up.
Never having been able to express a righteous indignation, or anger at everything, as a woman, having self-moderated from having a rageaholic mother from the earliest age.
Watching, in your newfound isolation: businesses, homes, every article of dailiness, china, cutlery, musical instruments, museum-quality world furnishings, textiles, furnishings, childhood and family photographs, family paintings, each kitchen artifact that awakened generational memory. Meanwhile you ave lost your to your parents to terrible deaths, your daughter to kidnapping by the ex-, your ambulation in a slip and-fall due to negligence. You’ve spent a night in jail on false arrest, you’ve slept in your car, in a shelter, in a gazebo, singing kumbayah so your Angeldog doesn’t become frightned of the storm. Ultimately you lose your best friend–that middle brother, Gary, the only one who did not appropriate you.
And somehow the bread you cast on the water (Gary always called it this) begins to come back to you: after ten years of post-divorce duress, when you were abandoned by your lawyer and three others attack you, and you are called “bipolar without her meds” in libel and slander on record, which strangely stays out in public domain for a decade, so that no lawyer will ever represent you, while you go through two ankle surgeries on the ankles he broke, through hunger and poverty for being wrongfully terminated from your own company and evicted from your own office building, when everyone leaves you so you must gingerly make your few forays into society, when you cannot afford cable or internet, or even take your daughter to a moveie–for years and years–your shared-custody daughter listns to you degraded publicly and humiliated continually by the happily remarried ex- as “bipolar” and “unemployed too long” in society, her schools, to your family, on the internet, so your condo neighbor alight on this and adds to the discrimination, and you, a workaholic since age 14, with a recent Master’s in Writing and 20+ years of management at the executive level cannot get an interview–ever–after making great first impressions, once they do the background checks. The defamation impeding any comeback for the comeback kid. This is when, if you are lucky, if you do the inner work, if you have the courage to have faith as small as a mustard seed, everything becomes sacred.
This is the pearl of great price.
To awaken, feel cool, new air in the nostrils, experience the sweetness of my faithful canine bestie in a morning love routine. To be able to walk. To be able to pee. (Honest: talk to a person who has a bag for either function). To be able to stretch out. (Like a POW or prisoner cannot) To be able to be thankful for Every Single Thing: teeth! Yay God. Thank you Creator Redeemer Sustainer. Thank you for preserving me. Show me the way.
Stever Jobs says it best: