Last Tuesday my home was struck by lightning. I don’t mean there was a power surge during a thunderstorm. I mean the building was HIT directly by a giant, bright, crackling bolt I saw as I was driving home. Whenever I see distant lightning strikes or smoke from a fire I think, “Gee, I hope that wasn’t my place, hee hee ho ho,” and nonchalantly go back to my day.
This time it was my place.
Thankfully I got home just at the right time to (1) not be electrocuted myself (let’s say I’d been home earlier and had the misfortune of plugging something in at just the wrong time) and (2) call the fire department in time to catch an exterior smoking outlet that sent scorch marks all the way up to my attic. Here I was thinking the main problem was a bathroom outlet that burst into flames after a breaker was flipped. Turns out the damn building was on fire…kinda.
My dishwasher and internet router are dead, but other than that everything is fine. The electrical problems have already been fixed courtesy of my condo HOA.
I knew something messed up like this was going to happen. I’ve been in a constant state of anxiety and anger and resentment and distrust and worry since the beginning of the year. Everything was a crisis, and every action from someone else was a slight against me. I wanted desperately to stop caring so much, to really try hard and keep to my “zero f*cks by forty” mantra. But that proverbial stick was pretty far up there if you catch my drift. A great deal of my stress was relieved when I quit my taekwondo school last month, but apparently I was still in such an emotional tizzy that I needed a literal shock from the universe.
In a real crisis I’m pretty calm. Outlet on fire? Oh, let’s just smash a towel over that. My heart was pounding when I called 911, but panicking and screaming would do no good in this situation. I sat primly on my couch while fire fighters tramped all over my hallway, attic, and back porch.
I will say that experience made me much more relaxed for some personal matters I had to deal with the next few days. Life is pretty good when you’re not homeless.
My problem is that I panic during the pseudo-crises, which we all seem to drum up in our fast-paced, overly connected, in-your-face society. I could do with a bit less of all that right now.
Real life has settled in again although I’m not sure how or to whom to express my deep gratitude for being so lucky. I try not to get pulled into the spiral of “what could have been” thinking because it’s too scary. I’m back at work. I bought tickets to a play. I was a little on edge the first time I ran my dryer and heater in case some little lightning goblin had holed up for a few days and was waiting to wreak havoc at just the right time–everything was fine.
If I’m not careful and mindful the lesson I’ve learned from this will evaporate quickly. Very rarely is anything a true crisis. The house fires, the heart attacks, the all too many mass shootings, the car chases, the financial ruin–the real times of peril are crises. Nothing else is that big of a deal, and I say that just as much for myself as I do for others. Work stuff–not life-threatening and as a bonus they help pay for my nice home that didn’t burn to the ground. All the drama and stress and unhappiness around Taekwondo this year–it’s OVER and I’m free to enjoy my time off and pursue other ventures. Even personal relationships–all the little stuff doesn’t matter.
I said in my last post that I’d have to keep trying to let go and not care as much and just enjoy and be thankful for what I have, and damnit I’m going to keep trying. Hopefully it won’t take another bolt of lightning to keep me on the right path to emotional and mental freedom.