You know, I was making great headway toward my new lifestyle in the Pennsylvania countryside near my University home in State College, PA. And then the damn board broke right out from under me.
The day before, I was surveying the work my husband was doing, which was power washing the dirt and mold on the 35 year old deck we are refurbishing on our 50 year-old cabin that is finally, almost, cross your fingers—completed. And, I noticed a board sort of jiggling beneath my feet. “This one needs fixed,” I said.
“Oh yeah, I noticed that,” he replied. Then we both went merrily along our way, into the cabin, crossing over the rotten board, and inside for a nice lunch.
I had picked some wildflowers and bought a new bistro table for the sunset side of the deck, and after making a bouquet of black-eyed Susans, and Queen Anne’s Lace, I joyfully carried my vase back outside where we would eat.
I might have been humming, so happy was I in my simple endeavor, that I did not think about… I did not remember…I did not look closely… I did not see that I was stepping on the rotten board—Craack! Boom. The vase went flying, and I descended into the space of the 61/2 inch board that broke. Well, one leg that is. The other knee just met the deck with a thud. I was, in a word, stuck. And, I couldn’t get my hands under me to heft myself out.
“Ive fallen and I can’t get up,” I yelled to my husband. “Get the saw!”
Being that he is a carpenter, I trusted him completely with a power saw just inches from my thigh??!! Mission accomplished, he got me out and that was that. Albeit banged up and bruised, dazed and confused.
Why didn’t we cover up that board? There were actually THREE times that could have happened, and I could have been spared an “accident”—first, when Terry’s construction partner located it, then when Terry checked it out and finally when it jiggled underneath me.
Whatever happens to me I look for some sort of meaning in it. A message from the universe. And here is what I came up with.
The message is this. Do not step on the rotten board. You KNOW it’s rotten. It may look like it’s not rotten, therefore, you forget that it is, but you must NOT go that way—the way of the rotten. You must choose another route.
It is so clearly not the time for retracing old steps over rotten territory. No new vaccinations, not for Lymes, or diabetes, or any damn thing. It’s rotten!
The first go round, I accepted the masking to get into the stores and the restaurants and the libraries, but not this time, it’s all rotten, I’m not going to step there! Because, guess what? I will fall in. There is nothing I will do this time around that may be suggested, asked, or demanded of me, if I think it is stupid, dangerous or manipulative—rotten! I’m out.
The hole is waiting there to swallow me up. It may have taken just my leg last time, but this time it could be my whole body. And, that, is just too much. I will have disappeared into the abyss. The darkness would have overcome.
There’s a flip flop at the bottom of that hole in my deck. Long may it be encased with the new board over it.
I am free.
Over the last three years, my brain has undergone an overhaul. New neurotransmitters are firing. My meditations and prayers allowed the still small voice to be present. It seems that as organic humans, we must “stop thinking” in order to grow spiritually.
In a previous post, I’ve spoken about a nervous breakdown in my past. It was such a watershed event. I noticed that when I was going through this, I had no thoughts. Quite blank. I still functioned. Yes, I was thinking, you know, taking care of business, but there were no thoughts about reality. No thoughts about how things were working, or not working. My brain just stopped integrating and synthesizing for awhile. It was uncomfortable at first, but then, I realized that my brain was making so many new connections that it had to stop in order to disconnect from the old to make the new.
A nervous breakdown is very disconcerting, to say the least, but it takes you to a better place. I feel like I have been through the same kind of process this go round with the Pandemia experience. But instead of breaking down, I initiated the “thought stopping” process by going deep into meditation, particularly by devoting myself to Centering Prayer. I started for 20 min. a day and now I do 40 min. a day. I believe I will do more in the coming months. It is needed. It’s my only GPS for not only jumping over the hole, but taking a whole new route.
You perhaps have heard the story Dr. Wayne Dwyer tells about the woman who was asked to describe her life. And, she says, it was in 5 acts. The first act, she walked down a road and fell in a hole. She was so upset because she didn’t know it was there and she was a victim of circumstances! It was hard to get out. It took her forever, but she finally did get out.
The second act, she walked down the road, and even though she knew the hole was there (like the rotten board!) she still fell in, and she was mad because she was so easily fooled into thinking she was safe. This time she studied and strategized and found her way out rather quickly.
The third act, she walked down the road and again fell in, but this time, she knew exactly how to get out.
The fourth act, she walked down the road, and at the precise moment that was necessary, she jumped over the hole and proceeded down the road.
The fifth act, the woman took a different road.
Here I sit. I’m about to take a new road. Aren’t we all?
The world is having a nervous breakdown. Thoughts must stop. The terrain changes. The field vibrates at a different frequency. The heart is getting more involved. The thinking, especially the the left brain, which has been overactive finds a resting place by finding a balance.
Everything about the new road is quite, well, new. I don’t know it’s turns. The familiar obstacles, the well worn and difficult trails. I’m used to them. Aren’t we all?
I have skills to apply there, like “jumping-over-hole skills.”
Do I have what is needed for this ascent? Would I have been born at this time for naught?
Three times it made its presence known. We’ve all been through it.
There is no reason now to step on that rotten board.