Miracles happen

The first week of February was the week I learned that waiting for bad news can become a form of meditation. When I finally received the message that my fate had been decided, I actually ate lunch and took a 20 minute nap before calmly returning the dreaded phone call to find out what was up. I had turned detachment into a kind of art form.

Next, I learned that processing very *good* news can be just as hard as adjusting to the prospect of bad. Truly, the outcome in this case is almost a miracle. I was numb for days, barely able to believe it until I held the piece of paper in my hands. And then I still couldn't put the pieces together in my brain.

I'm really very lucky, but 'lucky' is probably a poor word choice in this case. To quote anthropologist Margaret Mead: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." Alongside dozens of others, I fought a tough battle and stood my ground. And we won.

But I've been having trouble adjusting to this rosy new reality. I had no idea how much the fear of the future had permeated my daily round. It's a little bit distressing to know that even with all of my training in yoga and meditation, I still fall so easily into this kind of low-grade 'freak out' mode.

Thank you for all of your notes and comments of support - they helped me get through the days.

Now, I'm carrying on exactly as before, but with a renewed sense of gratitude. No doubt, there are still clouds on the horizon, but I'm feeling more optimistic than I have in a long time.


Princess Fur is skeptical, yet hopeful.

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