…and there she was

THURSDAY: She sat in the doctor’s office listening as he told her mother she had an abdominal cavity filled with malignant tumors and her “cancer count” was over 4000. Holy crap.

Her mother’s options for treatment were chemo in Longview/Dallas or MD Anderson in Houston. Since her younger sister lives just outside of Houston, and has a large comfortable home with plenty of room, her mother chose MD Anderson, where she could be cared for by her daughter during treatment. OK, then. Let’s do this.

SUNDAY: She drove to her son’s house early that morning. She left her car there, and together she and her son drove in his car because it is more comfortable, to pick up her mother and the three of them drove four more hours to Houston. They unloaded her belongings and left her there to begin this next, very scary chapter of her life.

MONDAY: She drove to the small, beautiful patch of land out in the country where her mother had lived with her husband for 39 years. Someone needed to check on her mother’s husband, but did it really need to be her…? Yes, it needed to be her.

Ever since she was a teenager, she had referred to her mother’s husband by his last name because calling him anything else felt too familiar, too casual, too friendly. She just couldn’t call him anything “fatherly” or even refer to him as her step-father. It had been her perception from the start that he didn’t care for her, and she felt unwanted at his house. She felt she was in the way and was often told not to “rock the boat,” which she took as meaning she was already an unwelcomed guest in the house, and anything she did to call attention to that was awkward, even harmful,  at best.

When she was sixteen, her mother handed her fifty dollars cash and said, “Take care of your sister. I’ll be back on Monday.” She asked, “Are you going to marry him?” Her mother looked at her with all of the strength she could muster, hoping she was doing the right thing for her girls and said, “Yes, I am.” It felt like a business decision really, and soon she would come to realize she had not been included in the deal. He had agreed to focus on the woman he loved and her youngest daughter, but the oldest one would graduate from high school and be gone soon, so he would just wait that out. Again, this was her perception and it was brutal. It was painful. It was confusing. But she persevered.

She would come home from high school most Fridays to find a note saying, “Gone to Yellowdog” which meant they had gone camping, as a family, down to the river for the weekend without her. There were many other verbally abusive altercations over the years, but still her mother would insist on her sending father’s day cards and making birthday phone calls, only to have him ridicule her for either calling too late or sending a gift that didn’t measure up. But she kept trying throughout the 39 years, hoping to be loved and accepted as part of the family. It never happened.

When she arrived at his house on Monday after taking her mother to Houston, she found him sitting alone in the kitchen across from the pool table, which took up the entire living area upon entry. This pool table was another representation of hurtful memories between herself and this man she was supposed to call “Dad” but never could. She silently walked over to him and leaned against the pool table. He looked at her with tears streaming down his face. This strong, tough, “Texas proud” man sat on a barstool in front of the girl he’d been so mean to over the years, and cried. He asked how her mother was and she told him she was doing well. She gently and kindly explained what little she knew about the next steps, and promised to keep him informed. Her heart broke for him as she saw that the life had left his eyes. He was clearly scared to lose his wife. She knew he could not live without her, and together at that very moment, they silently acknowledged that.

And this girl looked at him with compassion. This girl didn’t mention the tears. This girl simply looked through the paperwork and bills that needed to be paid, and together they took care of business. She stood there, patiently handing him checks, one by one, to sign. His massive hands were curled and cramped into claws by arthritis and he could barely hold a pen, but she stood there and waited patiently as it took him at least 5-10 minutes to sign his name on each check. She would then write the information in the check register for him, seal the payment in the envelope, carefully put a stamp on the top right hand corner and put the correspondence in a stack to be mailed. Each step was important to him, and with a loving heart she did exactly as she was told.

…and there she was, on a cold December day, standing for hours in silence, the abused helping the abuser.

All was forgiven.

 

No One Ever Asked, “What happened?”

Wow.

I’m watching 60 Minutes right now and there is a story being reported about trauma, specifically childhood trauma. I am listening to these brave souls tell their stories and my compassion is overflowing.

The damage I’ve experienced myself didn’t happen until I was in my adult years, although some of those traumatic feelings were a result of my looking back at the child I was, and feeling compassion for her. The blessing is that while I was growing up, I had no idea what was going on, so I defined being “happy” by what I was feeling, which was constantly very scared and confused. Every day of my childhood. Therefore, it is no surprise that what I attracted in my early adult years was also labeled as happy, but was in fact a series of relationships in which I did not feel safe. Ever.

My definition of happy is much different now than it was then. What I thought was a happy life was good enough for that little girl, that teenager, that young woman, and for this I am grateful. There is no blame whatsoever in my world, and today I am still appreciative to have been raised the way I was, because I know it’s not what happened, not what I was told or how I was treated, but my perception of my childhood experiences that created my reality. Everyone in my life, my mother, my sister, my grandmother, and most importantly myself included, have done the best we could with what we’ve had.

There is a traumatic experience in my adulthood that came back to me so powerfully a few minutes ago as I heard this; “the moment of value in your life can come from anyone who looks at you and asks, ‘what happened to you?'” That phrase has haunted me, and at the same time escaped me,  for the past 27 years. It seemed so simple. I stayed open and looking for that one person who would never come. The one who would look at my life and say with love and trust, “What happened to you?”

Because of this, my love for others has been a source of strength, and I have always looked at anyone who is acting in a negative way and wondered, “What happened? What has happened to you, to make you act this way?” I don’t ask, “What is wrong with you,” because I know how that feels.

The incident I refer to was something that catapulted me into a life I could never have imagined growing up, and I now know was Divinely mastered. At the time, I needed help, but I was judged instead. And like the story tonight on 60 Minutes, my perception was more of hearing, “What’s wrong with you?’ instead of “What happened?”

In the wee hours of the night sometimes…wait, who am I kidding…for so many years, I was obsessed 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and focused on wondering why not one person ever said to me, “Oh my darling, what could have happened to you for life to unfold for you the way it has? What happened to you that made you decide to take the actions you have taken?” Instead, I saw in others’ eyes, “What’s wrong with you?”

I got over that finally when the gift of forgiveness entered my life and it has been like a drug ever since that has kept me on the highest of highs I could ever imagine feeling. It truly doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, or asks, about how we live our life. I don’t blame anyone else for anything, I instead give credit to those who have challenged me and helped me grow. After all, he or she is doing just that…asking. What matters is how we perceive our experience and the power we have to find the good in everything that happens, the joy, the happiness, the love amidst the trauma, the hurt, the craziness. It’s all happening for me, not to me. I know that now, and it’s amazing. What gifts I’ve received just by staying in the open space to receive.

Again, I am grateful for the life I’ve lived, the way I was raised, the scary things that happened to me as a young person, the things I thought everyone was experiencing. I depended on my “whispers” and my gut to make decisions, and I know with all of my heart that beautiful whisper was (and still is) the Divine Being, God, the Universe, Source…whatever your Higher Power is called in your magnificent world, guiding me to be who I am today, and we’re not done yet.

Now I know I’m here to use all of it for the Greater Good for all. I am compassion. I’m still learning, still out there running the road, taking chances, being “GoTerriGo” because so far it’s working. I am vulnerable, I am real, I am still making mistakes and reaching out to every human who crosses my path, with pure and unconditional love.

I am eternally grateful and appreciative for EVERYTHING and EVERYONE.

I love you. With all my heart, I love you.

Thank you for visiting my blog and reading this entry. You are amazing and worthy. Don’t let anyone dim your light.

Love always, Terri

 

The Power of Self-Care, Protecting My Boundaries, Releasing Expectations, and Not Caring What Others Might Think…all came together for me when something profound happened last weekend.

Ok, here I go…total transparency, complete vulnerability and my gift to you as always, MY TRUTH.

When I write, I imagine you and I are having a conversation, that I am not only speaking to you, I am also looking into your eyes and listening to you. I am not throwing my thoughts, observations, and realizations out there, hoping something will stick, I am simply sharing with love, detached from outcome. What do I mean by listening to you as I write? How can we really have a conversation while I sit where I am, writing, and you sit where you are, reading? I do this by taking time to be silent, to still my mind, and to send Love to you as I listen in appreciation for what comes back to me.

I won’t go into detail (because it’s not my story to tell), but the past three months have been a blur due to circumstances regarding my deep love for a family member and also a dear friend named Ron. Until I saw myself last weekend, uncharacteristically reacting to a situation instead of responding, I had no idea how emotionally and physically exhausted I must have been. And that’s not all.

Lesson OneA reminder to be aware of your body, mind, and soul, every day. Take care of yourself first. Otherwise you might find yourself in a situation where normally you would be thriving, but instead you are shuffling pages of a script you don’t even really need to take on stage with you (literally and metaphorically). This happened to me. I was the emcee for an event and we had simple last minute changes in the order of the closing ceremony. I usually love it when this happens because I get to improvise, be authentic, and it keeps me in the NOW. The only explanation for my obscure reaction to what happened next is that I received an untimely bit of devastating news while being emotionally exhausted, due to an overload of concern for those two loved ones in my life. It was as though suddenly my heart and brain had switched places and I couldn’t think. I could only feel. At that moment I realized I had let my longtime habit of practicing daily self-care fall behind. If I had taken care of myself first, I would have been ahead of any obstacles, changes or challenges and seen them as opportunities. Awareness, especially self-awareness, is not something you acquire or achieve like a scholastic degree, it is a delightful habit to be practiced once realized.

When I get on the road, I have certain boundaries I adhere to. They serve me well. They protect my well-being and keep me safe. Last weekend I softened one of those boundaries, changed my schedule, and it cost me dearly. This change pushed an important meeting with the organization who hired me from early afternoon to late the night before the event and I also skipped a morning stop to see my friend, Ron, who was very ill. I told myself it was okay because I was doing a favor for someone, and I’d see Ron on my way out of town the next day.

All of this was completely my decision, and I take full responsibility.

A few minutes before the closing ceremony began, I received a message that Ron had passed away the previous afternoon. Had I respected my boundary, listened to my intuition and stayed on schedule, it is possible I could have held his hand, told him a dirty joke, kissed him on the cheek and said goodbye that morning. This news broke my heart wide open, with no time to process before hearing about the changes in the program and hopping back on stage to gratefully do my job…see how this is all coming together to teach me something?

Lesson Two: Once you set a boundary, no one can cross it unless you let them. It’s your boundary. It’s up to you to respect your intuition, honor your decisions, and respect yourself. Relax and let your boundaries protect you like a loyal, dependable friend. No defending yourself. No explaining. No blaming yourself or others when things fall beneath certain expectations. Blame has no place here (or anywhere else for that matter). It’s useless. Blame is a wasted emotion and I’ve eliminated it from my life. I can’t tell you how good that feels. Something else that feels good is knowing I will from now on respectfully protect my boundaries as they protect me, even when a request comes from someone I love.

In the end, all went well and we had a successful and meaningful event. Goals were surpassed, beautiful moments were experienced, and I remain immensely grateful for the patience and understanding shown to me by two very special executives (and friends) with the organization. Those few moments where my brain was not cooperating felt like hours. It’s alarming when something that would normally excite you in a positive way causes you to react in an unfamiliar and unproductive manner. Are you kidding me? Being on stage and flying by the seat of my pants is my comfort zone! What was happening? And when I realized others were witnessing my behavior offstage, my pride took over and I started telling myself stories about what they must be thinking. These thoughts were a product of my perception and did not serve me. They were negative and totally made up! Once the closing ceremony was over, and I was reminded about missing an opportunity to see Ron before he died, I started to cry a little bit and I didn’t really try to hide it as I wiped my eyes. Wait…did they think I was crying about the changes thrown into the ceremony at the last minute? Did my friend just see me crying and turn away because he thinks I’m upset about losing it earlier? I don’t cry about stuff like that! Why wasn’t he coming over to me, holding me and asking if I was ok? I needed to tell him Ron died before I could see him. My heart was broken because of choices I’d made and I was sad.

Lesson Three: Don’t hold another person’s actions to your expectations. Release and dissolve all expectations of yourself and others, and just allow life to flow. Just BE. Live and let live. Pay attention to what is happening and know when it is time to move on. And remember…what others think of you or say about you is none of your business.

I took a deep breath and came to my senses. I felt the cold mountain air fill my lungs and felt the snow crunch beneath my boots as I walked away. It’s been years since I let false perceptions get the better of me, and as I drove away I allowed myself to feel any and all emotions that came up. No judgment. Total self-care. I believe everything happens the way it is supposed to, and life is always happening for me, always happening through me, and not happening to me. Sometimes “how” it all unfolds is painful. That’s ok, it’s only temporary. It’s how we grow and evolve into who we are supposed to be while we are here. We don’t know what we want until we know what we don’t want. Go with it.

Create healthy boundaries and protect them, coming from love, not fear.

Dissolve expectations of yourself and others. It’s all good.

Practice daily self-care. Get good rest. It’s imperative.

Don’t defend yourself. Stop explaining yourself to others. Let your essence be a mystery.

And as soon as you get to the point where you (respectfully) don’t give a rip about what anyone else thinks (“good” or “bad”) you will be free.

You be you, and I’ll be me.

Love always, Terri

 

I’ve Seen What Love Can Do

When I started this GoTerriGo journey, all I knew to say when someone asked what I do for a living, was “I help people.” I didn’t say “I want to help people,” because I thought that would keep it in the future and I was declaring it as NOW. I had no idea what that meant exactly or what that kind of life looked like in reality. It was such a broad statement and it hasn’t always been met with positive reactions from people who have known me for a long time. I understand, and I haven’t let that stop me from believing my truth, mostly because when I meet someone new and open up to them, it’s an enlightening and amazing conversation! I see a light go on inside them and the conversation turns to something they’ve always wanted to do. It’s beautiful! When those moments come to me, I learn more about another human being and how much we are all alike. Up until now it hasn’t been easy, although I haven’t doubted for one moment this is what I’m supposed to be doing. For the past six years or more, I have been totally immersed in the Human Connection, finding kindness and inspiration everywhere I go, even in the perception of the most difficult conditions. I’ve seen what Love can do. I’ve felt what the absence of Love can do. I choose Love. Every time. ❤️ I love you.

My Honest, Vulnerable, Messy, Scary, Heart-Breaking, Crazy-Making, Faithful, Joyful, Grateful, Funny, Loving, Forgiving, and Long Way Home (Part 2)

Blame is useless. Blaming others only gives away your power. Keep your power. Without power, we cannot make changes. The helpless victim cannot see a way out.”   — Louise Hay

Maybe clumsy is a better word than messy for this part, like a toddler learning to walk or run for the first time…or like a young child driving a car. I’m excited and scared, filled with wonder and awe, behind the wheel of something huge and magnificent, not knowing whether to hit the gas or slam on the brakes. It’s January 2014, I’ve spent two years on this “road trip” and all I know without a doubt is that I want to help people. I decide to hit the gas (one more time) and see what happens next.

What does happen is a series of twists and turns I never saw coming. Everything that happens is big, and to summarize it all at this point would trivialize the impact these discoveries are having on my life. Each “life event” deserves its own blog entry, essay, or book chapter, and I’m happy to have more to share with you at a later date.

Let’s get to that clumsy part of all this, and be done with it. I’ve heard it said that if you don’t make a move when the time is right, Life will push you. One way or another, the stars will line up and that good ol’ Higher Power, the Universe, or in my case, God will make it impossible for you to stay where you are. That’s what happens to me in 2011, but I’m a little slow on the uptake. I spend two more years feeling a huge shift in myself as I observe changes in my life I can’t explain, but I keep trying too hard to stay on track, doing the same thing over and over expecting a different outcome. The one big adjustment I do focus on is changing my thoughts and watching my words, and I have a great friend and mentor who helps me do that. I start paying attention to all of the information that has been flooding into my life and onto my bookshelves over the past ten to fifteen years, the self-help courses I’ve taken and learned but never applied, and bringing to the forefront of my mind all of the life lessons I’ve filed away for safe keeping. One book in particular keeps following me, popping up in my belongings when I could have sworn I gave it away, or someone gives it to me as a gift. All of a sudden other people notice a change in me, the changes in my life, and they start asking questions.

One example of my disjointed growing pains happens on a rainy day in California. I’m at a small retreat with eight or so other attendees, and we are all sitting around the table talking after dinner. At one point, it’s my turn to tell a story and we are all laughing about my vulnerable way of “fumbling through the weeds on my path.” By now my habit of positive jargon is so firmly locked in, I am constantly mindful of my words. This practice is my lifeline. I’m convinced it’s my survival. I’m just not that good at it yet, and I haven’t distanced myself enough from the shock and pain of recent events to go into detail without fear of a downward spiral. I’m afraid to test it, afraid I’m not strong enough yet to pull myself back up, as I know the brain does not know the difference in a memory and what is happening in the present moment. Because of this, it leads to a disconnect in conversation, but I don’t recognize that, I just honestly answer every question the best way I know how. There is a gap between how bad things really got for me and how life now appears to be heading in a positive (sometimes Divine) direction. It feels like in order to connect to everyone listening at the table that day, one new friend wants me to go back to my darkest time and walk her through how I pulled myself out of it. I get that, but even as I try to accommodate her, I can’t bring back the feelings of despair and paralyzing fright I felt during the worst time that I now lovingly refer to as my “Ten Days at Dana’s.” All I can honestly remember now is discovering my self-worth for the first time in my life, and then the feeling of hope, a knowing, that I am safe and all is well. I was alone at Christmas, house sitting and taking care of Jenni the German Shepherd, and there was no visible sign of how I was going to make it past New Year’s. I had no home, no income, and my bank account was more than $1,000 overdrawn because my new employer paid me with two hot checks on a closed account, and then disappeared. I just didn’t get it. This time my situation was freakishly out of my control and not of my own doing. I dropped to my knees, crying so hard I was almost choking and yelled, “Ok, I give! What am I missing? You have to show me because I don’t see it!” God sat me down at the kitchen table in front of a book and said, “Read this.” And I did. For 14 hours straight, I didn’t move from the table except to feed Jenni and let her out when she needed. I read every word, sometimes going back and reading certain pages over and over, highlighting and underlining, and making notes in the margins of this book that had been following me for at least 10 years. It was Louise Hay’s Life Loves You.

As I consider my experiences over the past six years, I’m reminded that the only benefit the past has for us is to show how far we’ve come and how much we’ve learned. It’s not a resource for highlighting mistakes, regrets, painful moments. It’s where we keep the batteries to power the flashlight we can shine on our accomplishments, our growth, and the gift of the present moment to start again, to be our best, to live with love and laughter…and appreciation for what we have and who we are right here, right now. Whew! That’s a big thought and I bring it to you from experience, from MY experience, my perspective, my perception, and my heart. My intention in offering my honestly raw, vulnerable stories to you is that in them you might find a twinkle of joy, an answer to a question, a dose of rejuvenation, and the “on” switch for that super-duper flashlight of yours. Giving yourself permission to stand in the spotlight and shine from within, gives others permission to stand in their greatness and shine their own light too. Don’t ever dim your light or shrink yourself to fit into someone else’s box. You are meant to be unique, to be larger than life, to experience unlimited abundance and joy. Right here. Right now.

Love always, Terri

My Honest, Vulnerable, Messy, Scary, Heart-Breaking, Crazy-Making, Faithful, Joyful, Grateful, Funny, Loving, Forgiving, and Long Way Home (Part 1)

At a hotel in Las Cruces, New Mexico, I swam in a swimming pool today. It was the first time in seven years. For most people that realization might not be a defining moment, but it brought overwhelming joy and gratitude to my heart as I swam from one end of the pool to the other and back again, underwater, holding my breath the whole way. I did handstands and flips. I exhaled all of my breath and sunk to the bottom of the shallow end, and sat on the floor of the pool, legs crossed as though on dry land, like I did when I was a kid. I used to swim every day in the lake where I grew up. I love the water. It’s refreshing and cleansing. It’s holy. The last time I remember swimming was in the summer of 2010. It was midnight, the sky was brightly lit with the moon and stars, and the water was unusually warm at the Burbank townhome complex where I lived with my husband, as I floated on my back to peacefully take it all in. The light in the pool was not on that night, so I took off my swimsuit and felt the freedom of being naked. I laughed out loud with joy, like a child. If I’d known what was to happen next in my life, I might have exhaled all of my breath and sunk to the bottom in the deep end and stayed there. That is the honest part.

I didn’t exhale and I didn’t sink to the bottom. Not that night, anyway. As I floated underneath the vast universe, I had a faint feeling change was coming. Big change. Growth. Stretching. Adventure. The excitement of the unknown. Had I been given a glimpse of the entire big picture, I might have focused on what else was around the corner, potentially a perception of great loss. Fear. Lack. Humiliation. Loneliness. No self-worth whatsoever, and the awareness of uncertainty. I know now that focusing on all of those negative emotions would have only given them strength. Made them grow larger, like a plant being fed and watered. Suddenly, without even knowing what was happening, my faith was growing bigger than my fear and nothing had even happened yet, that I could see, to cause this stirring in me. So I remained still. And I waited. That was the first sign of the faithful part. The scary part, and the grateful part. Those three companions always appear together, The Three Amigos, buckled into the passenger seat on my journey.

Then Bam! My life started shifting with such momentum it made my head swim (see what I did there). Since my focus is to keep this essay positive, and for us to remain in “solution mode” instead of “problem mode,” I’ll zoom right to how I felt in the year 2012, after being catapulted into awakening like a circus clown being shot out of a cannon, too high to see the net below. I felt scared. I felt vulnerable. I felt excited. I felt betrayed. I felt confused. I felt responsible. I felt hopeful. I felt free. I was starting to feel happy.

I felt…ready.

Ready for what? I had no idea. For the first time in my life, I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t have a story to tell people that would fit, make sense, put them at ease, release myself from judgment and hurtful comments. All I had was the truth within myself, and two choices. I could continue to do what I’d always done, and walk through Door Number One. Fight the crazy-strong desire to be myself and follow my heart, busting my ass to replace all that had just fallen away, get that solid high-paying job with benefits and a new place to live, get back out there and mend the deep heart break I’d experienced from the dissolution of my marriage and the shocks of cruelty and humiliation that came with it. OR I could choose Door Number Two. I could embrace that crazy-strong desire and surrender to it. I could finally do what my heart was telling me to do, even though it made no sense to anyone else. I could choose love, not fear. I could trust that if it feels good, it’s the way to go. I could be open, honest, vulnerable and RAW. I could keep it simple. I could believe that life happens for me, not to me, and all of this craziness was God cleaning my house. I could believe all is well and I am safe. So that’s what I did. I chose Door Number Two. That was the joyful part.

Here is the messy part. It took a while for me to really “get it.” I had a lot to learn about dissolving limiting beliefs and the habits that felt safe but had really always held me back. I had chosen Door Number Two with my heart, but my head was still knocking on Door Number One because it was familiar. I was close, but still standing in the hallway between the two doors to my future. There were lots of funny parts too, and one of them was that my life choices were now being carried out on a January to December schedule. Once again, Life was making it easier for me to recall while telling my story later. The entire year of 2012 was crazy-making, with my 14-year marriage coming to a brutal halt, my secure dream job becoming a hurtful nightmare, and my longtime dentist pulling my four front teeth, which I found out later did not need to happen. It was the perfect storm…more on that funny part later. In 2013, I came oh-so-close to getting on the road to happiness, but instead of following my heart I listened to what was going on in my head and accepted, you guessed it, that good ole high-paying job with benefits. I do believe that everything happens the way it is supposed to, and that job taught me to stay present and observe what is going on instead of just going through the motions. What I noticed during that year was that my Executive Assistant and Manager skills were fading, like a soul being released from a Harry Potter photo. It was a year of mild disasters, and when it ended I felt grateful for having said “yes” to the lessons I’d learned and cannot unlearn, to my growing certainty that the corporate world was no longer serving me on my path. Two years into my new topsy-turvy life, I jumped. In January of 2014, I gave most of my possessions away, loaded the Jeep with what I thought I needed, determined to use the fact that I had no home address (let’s reframe “homeless”) as an opportunity to just keep driving. To go where I hoped I could be of use and to help others if needed. I became the alchemist of my own life, melting, mixing and welding together “what I do” and “who I am.” From there it got messier.

Stay tuned for Part 2.

Love always, GoTerriGo!

The Last $5.00

Hello there! I have a story to tell you. Yep, that’s right…another story. I hope you like this one.

I know a woman who woke up one morning, looked in her wallet and counted only nine dollars. It was all she had, a $5 bill and four $1 bills. Her bank account was empty, she had no credit cards, and she was getting dressed to meet a friend who was driving her to her bankruptcy hearing.

Ten months prior to this day, she’d made the decision to change her life in a big way, and to help someone she loves very much. She knew the risk, didn’t hesitate, just made the move filled with love, riding on blind faith. Shortly after making this move, a series of events unfolded and to some it might have appeared that she’d “lost everything.” In her eyes, there were miracles happening all around her. She was elated. Grateful.

Now back to the day she woke up with only $9 left…

She rode with her friend downtown to the courthouse for her hearing. There were several big buildings, and it took them three tries to find the correct one. All along the way, with each attempt to get to her hearing, she met wonderful people and stopped to smile and share stories. Her morning was beautiful and cheerful, in spite of her current perceived conditions.

Once she found the correct building, the right hearing room, and patiently waited her turn to confirm her paperwork was indeed factual and correct, things progressed swiftly. The Trustee informed her that she needed to go over to the other courthouse and confirm a small detail regarding her contact information. She thanked him and went to do just that.

Her friend said he would meet her in the car, he had some calls to make. She agreed, and proceeded along to the courthouse across the street. After taking care of her paperwork, the clerks (who were all very nice) told her if she wanted copies of her filing, she would need to pay for them. She knew from experience that having copies of such important transactions was in her best interest. She asked how much it would cost to attain the copies. The person helping her said, “With the amount of pages included, it will cost you $4.25 and we can’t give you change.” The woman said, “That’s ok, I have a $5 bill,” knowing that would leave her with only four $1 bills. When the person behind the desk made the copies and took them to her co-worker, she asked her to charge the woman $4.25. “How many pages did you copy for her?” asked the co-worker. The clerk told her how many. Her co-worker said, “It’s only four dollars, we round down.” The clerk said, “It doesn’t matter, she only has a five dollar bill and I told her we don’t give change.” The woman, hearing this, said, “Oh, it’s ok, I also have four $1 bills, so I can give you correct change.” It all worked out. She gladly gave them her four $1 bills, she received her copies, and left the courthouse with only one $5 bill left to her name.

The woman could not explain it, didn’t question any of it, just walked out feeling filled with grace and joy, smiling at everyone she met on the street as she went to cross the street where her friend was hopefully still waiting in the car to take her to work.

As she approached the corner, something made her cross the street, even though she hadn’t seen where her friend had parked the car because he’d moved it. When she got to the other side, there was a man standing there holding what appeared to be a large bag of clothes. He looked at her and said, “Excuse me. My wife and I are trying to raise enough money for a room to stay in tonight. We just need $12 and all I have is $7 so far. Could you help us?” The woman looked into his eyes and she was immediately filled with love and happiness. She said, “Wait…so all you need is $5?” He said, “Yes.”

She reached into her wallet and gave him her last $5 bill. The man beamed with gratitude. “Thank you,” he said. The woman said, “You are most welcome.” As the man turned to walk away, something stopped him. He looked at the woman, and she was smiling from ear to ear. She said, “I want you to know something. I just left bankruptcy court and that is my last $5. I’m sure I crossed the street because you are supposed to have it.” The man said, “What? Now I feel bad!” The woman laughed and said, “No, don’t feel bad, it’s a GOOD thing! The only reason I told you that is because I want you to know things are turning around for you right now! I truly believe that this $5 is yours…I was just holding it for you.” The man said, “Oh, I get it. If you give to me, someone will help you. It’s karma.” The woman said, “Well…I’m giving to you because you need $5 and I have $5. I’m happy to help you because others have helped me in the past and I know without a doubt that you and I are going to be fine, we are taken care of…and all is well.”

The man said, “My wife will be very grateful and excited to sleep in a warm, safe, dry space tonight,” and then he smiled a bright, knowing smile as though the tables had turned, and he was the lender, not the borrower.

I don’t know what happened in this man’s life after he met the woman on the street that day, but I do know the woman personally and her life has continued to unfold in ways she could not have imagined all on her own. She sees miracles happen each and every day, all around her on this amazing journey, and every minute holds endless possibilities of something absolutely wonderful for her…and for you. It’s all good.

Love always and in all ways…GoTerriGo!