expecting it to be difficult

loving it anyway

You know how they say thoughts become things and you should try (if you want good things), to keep your thoughts positive? Yeah, I struggle with this all day long. I feel afraid when I’m in difficulty. As if I have somehow brought it down on myself through some lack of elevated thought. The problem is, sometimes life coming at you, as Andrea Gibson would say, is ACTUALLY difficult. They suggest that if we expect nothing less than difficult, perhaps we can let it/life keep moving along down the road, instead of stopping it, as if it’s abnormal, for questioning. Perhaps we can love it (the difficulty) for what it is, instead of what we would like it to be…which for me is always a smooth sailing day with no hiccups and kind people, van batteries that work and HOA managers that don’t make it their mission to hold you under their thumbs…up until your very last breath in LA county.

It started last Friday with the van battery going out. It was our last day of my daughter’s lessons and I was feeling pretty good about all the things being done and now being able to focus on all the moving todos. Of which there were many. We were at Old Navy returning some shoes, that didn’t fit our three year old, so it could have been worse. But also, I was in an Old Navy parking lot with two kids and groceries in the back of the van slowly getting warm. When AAA arrived, I was so happy and grinning and basking in the relief that was washing over me, feeling so proud that I was going to get this all taken care of and we would be on our way. It’s when you feel this kind of proud relief that life comes at you; my AAA friend shared that he could jump the van but would be unable to replace the battery because of a code the van was reading. Something not attached to the battery issue at all and not fatal to the van. But in true corporate liability fashion they would be unwilling to risk swapping the battery. Looking back I feel like this was the moment. The ridiculousness of this moment irked me. It made me think things in my head like can’t you just be a human being and hear my words and give me a battery please? I actually asked him to sell me the battery so that I could swap it myself. Instead he told me to take it to a AAA center where they could swap it safely. I asked why they could do it in a building but not here with mounting frustration. He reiterated that his hands were tied and I stared at him with a fire building in my stomach and my kids jumping all over my groceries. No, he couldn’t just be a human being and help because he works for a corporation and they have rules about these things.

I think it was these feelings that bubbled up about rules and corporations that kept me right there on that can’t you just be a human being road for the rest of the week. All the negative experiences (code; people) that followed over the next week were henceforth stopped for questioning and not allowed to go on their miserable way. And as it goes with any type of interrogation no one feels good about it. Especially me, I’m very good, about feeling bad, about the bad feelings of such things. For me it’s a deep tension throughout my whole body going all the way down into my fingertips and into my teeth. I’m a walking rubber band.

I told a friend it felt like I had bees under my skin for days, but especially in my forehead, there was a buzzing with incredulous misery over all the things that seemed to be going wrong. And an intense need to think my way out of them which of course made my forehead hurt. I’ll list them here but not go too deep because again that will just keep them here longer and the line is wrapping around the block; The U-Haul rep recommended pods (based on our square footage) that were more than half of what we actually needed, after having the tiny pods dropped in two parking spaces we had to cone off with much fanfare because we were not allowed by our HOA to hold spaces overnight with our cars (our cars must be in our garage according to code xyz as those parking spots are only for guests), security arrived to tell us that we were not allowed to use cones. The HOA manager, we will call her Marlene, texted me to say that PODS were also not allowed in the complex even though they were listed as objects on the “safelist” (the place you list your guests vehicles in the hopes they will be safe from towing).

Here is the tiny POD for your viewing pleasure

It was all really terrific.

Through a serendipitous conversation with a previous neighbor who was moving out a month ago we knew that another neighbor close by (who we had never seen, because when you live in a condo you never use your front door, you just drive in and out of your garage and then pretend you don’t have neighbors) was a board member of the HOA - my partner knocked on their door and they agreed to talk to Marlene and buy us time with the pods for a couple days. HOWEVER, after having this conversation we quickly realized we would need to have new pods dropped (because the ones we had were tiny), another date for movers to come to move things into the new pods, and that the pods would be there ALL week not for the couple of approved days. On paper I felt like none of this should have been an issue. We were moving out. We needed PODS because we’re not driving our stuff somewhere. We don’t have a somewhere yet. And the head of the HOA in my opinion was now not human, they were simply a blob of non mercy texting me things like “I will have them removed we have rules about things like this.”

Last night as I was walking back to the campsite taking a deep breath and thinking well, one more day and I think things are almost wrapped up I felt a buzz in my pocket and it was Marlene. She was texting me to say be sure the PODS are removed by 11am Friday. And of course in true life coming at you fashion U-Haul let us know the pickup window will be from 11am-2pm. Just the fact that the moment I was taking a breath I got a text from her should have made me laugh but I wasn’t ready. I was still shaking my head at all the out of control things and questioning everyone’s humanity.

After dinner I drove alone back to the condo to put our trashcans back in the garage (to avoid a fine from the HOA) and had some time to myself. I remembered I had seen a post that Andrea Gibson’s cancer had come back and they had just recorded a podcast episode with Glennon Doyle. And I decided to listen because I love Andrea.

The beauty of Andrea is that when they talk about cancer they could be talking about dealing with a militant HOA manager. It’s all humanity. It’s all our humanity. I know this, it’s the premise of Kabbalah that we look at everything even the pain as a pleasure, because it has something to teach us. But sometimes we reach capacity and what we know feels out of reach. That’s where I was last night. And then Andrea reminded me that when everything is out of control and you feel at the mercy of folks or circumstances that are showing you no mercy you can remember that everything is god (source/ universe insert what you will). That the struggle we’re facing is where the strength and resilience get created. I had been repeating my mantras all week, loudly so they could be heard over the buzzing, but it wasn’t until I heard Andrea talk about life coming at you and expecting it to be difficult that I felt peace. It was ok that it was a ridiculously hard week, it wasn’t my fault, it was to be expected. Also to be expected is that I will struggle with it, hopefully learn something along the way, and appreciate the next kind text message I receive like no body’s business.

I made it to the condo and the lo and behold the trashcans still hadn’t been picked up, because of course Monday was a holiday. Feeling like that was a waste of a trip, I started driving back to the campsite and I saw a woman and her young daughter walking along the freeway carrying trash bags. I drove past and did a double take at how small the little girl looked. I got about five blocks down the road and swung around hearing Andrea in my head talking about love and connection...cursing them a little bit. Honestly, I had horrible thoughts, like what if they have lice and now we will all have lice. And then I imagined picking lice out of my kids hair at the campsite and having to burn the RV. But I turned around anyway. I asked them if they needed a ride and they did. Her daughter was almost five years old and they were trying to get to a place where they might have a room to rent. I drove them to the ATM because the mom needed to get her EBT money and then to the place they were hoping to stay at for the night. It took about a half hour all together. We talked about little things. We talked like human beings talk about rent prices and first and last deposits, and our kids, and her sister that lives in Vegas and how she used to go camping when she was a kid at the Carlsbad caverns. She hugged me and squeezed my hand when I dropped her off it was soft and bony at the same time.

Life comes at you. Sometimes it’s coming at you, head on so fast and mean, you turn away and then maybe you see something on the side of the road and stop for a minute and then you can’t hear your own buzzing and you breathe and feel human again. You feel grateful for the life coming at you. You watch it pass by, from your particular spot on the road, and wonder if Marlene has ever seen the Carlsbad Caverns.