Friday, December 5, 2008

Light of Hope

Some moments are just dark. One can be happy. One can think positive. One can become a card carrying member of the “Extreme Optimists for a Better World Society.” Some moments are just dark.

Tuesday morning began remarkably dark. I’d hardly slept, part idle piddling and part anxiety-induced insomnia. Nonetheless, when the alarm signaled the start of my day, I was already awake. These days Seth and Kira rarely need more than a witness as they prepare for school. While I watched, I debated...should I drive to Franklin to turn in the application in person or go back to bed and mail it?

Still unsure, I opted to make us some hot chocolate. If I mail it today, they will probably get it tomorrow, and certainly there aren’t 100 people in Williamson County so desperate to become a Master Gardener that I would miss out because my application arrived the second day of open registration. Maybe I will just go back to bed.

The water boiled. I poured and stirred the cocoa and topped their mugs  each with a handful of marshmallows (I still thrive on being a crowd pleaser)...but, these classes only happen once a year. The form said they only take 100 people on a first come, first serve basis. And it’s not like things in the professional world have been overwhelmingly going my way lately. Maybe I should just go.

Seth strolled back into the kitchen and I offered up his bright yellow smiley face mug. He rewarded me with a surprised smile and long, drawn out “Niiiice.” Usually that little token would leave me feeling the O-Mom high for several hours, but not that day; it was just too dark...I am going back to bed. I will just mail it. It will have to be fine.

I felt amused as they conspired, teaming up to convince me that since I made it so incredibly well, the cocoa can’t possibly be enjoyed properly in the short time before the bus comes for them. They didn’t want to tarnish their mugs of steaming perfection with my offer of ice, earnestly suggesting the only real solution was for me to drive them to school myself...So, they save me from myself again. Yes, I will drive them and since I’m out I will spend the hour to drop off the registration. That will put me there about 45 minutes after registration opens.

Cocoa cooled, we sipped and I silently begged for something to give... Anything would do, it feels like a thousand things are held up in those gloomy clouds. If just one, any one of them could break free from the darkness it would make my world a much easier place to breathe. Please, I beg,  please let loose of the words I need to finish the business plan or the approval of the worker’s comp appeal, or even the last $1300 dollars of my contract that ended six months ago. Please, just let loose of one simple job with a decent wage so I can provide for my family.

It wasn’t just dark, but also bitter cold I realized as we piled in the car. The reprieve from bus transportation pleased them and I thought it best to drop them off before I opened the sunroof. Nature, I’d rediscovered, along with meditation, are the only defenses I have against spells of anxiety. Even as cold as it’s been, l open the sunroof every time I’m in the car. It helps me feel connected and calm. 

So, I drove. It was still dark. Thirty minute drive, and it was still dark. Consulting my directions I turned left, left again, then right into the parking lot of the facility. As I crossed the parking lot, a remarkable shift occurred, the sun began to pour down all around me. I don’t mean peek through the heavy, thick, black clouds. I’m saying the sky opened up, the clouds literally parted, and the sun consumed the space I was driving into. As I came to a stop, and the sun poured in the sunroof of my wonderful little Jetta, it felt like months since the sun had warmed my face. 

For a moment I just sat there, music from the Day Twelve Soundtrack pulsing in my body, the sun cleansing my soul of all things dark - the fear turned to dust and I offered it back to the earth to nourish the soil, making it ripe and ready for the seeds I will bring in the Spring.

Inside, the friendly woman congratulated me: I was the first to register. It thrilled me. It felt unbelievably  good to think forward, to invest in tomorrow, to welcome the next big things that are coming my way. 

My drive home felt more like a flight, not my speed but the lightness... like a feather. This is how things work for me: when I take a step in the right direction, I receive strong and clear messages that I’m right on track. Yes, Christy, keep going this way. 

On this day, my sign looked like light and felt like hope.