THANKFUL FRIDAY

There have been two different incidences this month where a male driver has physically attacked me with his vehicle. Now while “physically attacked” feels a bit dramatic to say, when I think about what happened that’s exactly what it was. The first incident happened when I got over in front of a minivan and then the light changed and we all had to stop. He was more than car length away when I moved into the lane but the man driving the car was angry. He laid on his horn and then pressed the front of his van into the back of the basket that is attached to the scooter. He then proceeded to nudge my out into the intersection. It was getting really scary and I finally turned around and yelled “Please stop!”. Luckily the light changed and I was able to ditch him, but it did leave me slightly shaken.

The second incident happened this week while Josephine and I were on our way home from our walk. We were waiting for the crosswalk because even at 6:00 in the morning, Troost can be a little crazy. Plus I can’t see well enough over the hill to risk it. The light changed, my crosswalk light came on and there was a truck turning left onto Troost (moving towards us). Josephine and I stepped into the crosswalk and the truck moved into the intersection. He slowed, but then he sped up so that I had to physically jump out of the way, with him narrowly missing me. One of our neighbors who is there every morning because he rides the bus was on the other side of the street watching the whole thing in horror. I yelled at the truck and then made it across the street. My neighbor looked at me and asked if I was okay. I shakily said yeah, but then we hugged each other and started laughing. He said “OH! Thank the Lord, you’re al-right!” We then told each other to have a nice day and went on our merry ways.

I had almost forgotten about the first incident when this second one occurred, but then it dawned on me that both of these events happened in the same month. They bookend the month of October and has me questioning if this month was trying to kill me or if the universe is trying to tell me something. I am prone to move through this world oblivious to actual dangers. I am not spooked by walking down dark alleys because I can’t imagine what’s dangerous in a dark alley. A rat might scurry by? A hissing stray cat? Not really threats. I’ve always approached everything in the same way I’d approach a wasp. Leave the wasp alone and the wasp leaves you alone. It is naive. I know that, but I’ve never seen myself as the person that someone looks at and thinks “there’s my victim.” Not because I look tough or like a loud screamer, but because I believe that I am invisible.

Not for one minute do I believe that the above events are messages from the universe saying that I need to be more fearful. I am a firm believer that one of the biggest problems in today’s society is how we have and are continuing to be conditioned to be fearful of one another. Case in point: the (telephone game) story that went around about Hamas decapitating babies. Not a true story, but a nice one to spread around to make you fear and hate Hamas and thus all Palestinians. Decapitated babies is the horrible thing that remains stuck in your head and you will never grasp the idea that not all Palestinians are Hamas. It’s the same trap America fell for when we went after the Taliban. Religious fanatics only see other religious fanatics. But any way, before I fall into a rabbit hole of what Israel is doing is wrong trope, I’ll just say that we are taught to fear each other (fear leads to hate - Yoda). I refuse to listen to the universe if it’s trying to tell me to be more fearful.

Proceeding with some caution seems like more reasonable advice for me.

Maybe I needed a little rattling to open my eyes to possible dangers and some proof that I am not invisible. That neighbor? I hardly know him. I know that he and his wife and two kids live two houses east of us. Michael and I had one conversation with them late one evening when we were all standing in the street watching emergency responders clean up an accident. I know from that conversation that they used to have chickens and we swapped chicken husbandry stories. I say good morning to him every morning when I pass him at the bus stop. That’s it, but I don’t know what he or his wife do for a living. I’m not even sure I know their names but now I know he gives the greatest hugs.

Its a pretty intense way for the universe to point out the importance of making connections with the people in your community, but I’m really grateful he was there to celebrate my survival with me.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Tiny wing

5 Likes, 1 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "Tiny wing"

The other night, I dreamed that Chris and I were at Six Flags. We were the first ones into the park and headed right back to the biggest, newest roller coaster. There wasn't a line, but we had to twist our way through a maze of ropes and up and down a narrow staircase. The staircase was the scariest part because it was dark and the steps were steep. When we finally made it to the loading station, the roller coaster car pulled up and the seats were just open benches without any kind of harness or lap belt. You just held onto the seat and hoped you had the strength to hold yourself down on the loops. Chris looked at me and said without saying (because Chris never talks in my dreams) "are you sure you want to ride this roller coaster?" but then a hoard of zombies entered the park before I could answer him. Michael and I had just watched the most recent episode of the Walking Dead. By the way, season eight is just plain awful and I don't think I care enough about any of the characters any more to watch.

I realize now that I never answered Chris's question about wanting to ride a roller coaster that was so very obviously dangerous. Dr. Mary gave me a handout from a lecture she did a while ago about seven things for functioning or something like that. She had me read the list out loud and when I got to the second thing on the list, I busted out laughing. Number two on the list had to do with recognizing dangerous situations and avoiding them appropriately. Then I told Dr. Mary about the time I drove an hour to have dinner at a stranger's apartment and how I didn't see anything wrong with this until I got there. Then it was a little bit creepy that the guy only had one light on, no heat and camp chairs for furniture, but I still figured that if I had to fight this guy that I totally could have taken him. I most of the time do not recognize a dangerous situation as being dangerous. This is why Talaura has a video of bison running down the road with Michael's voice clearly saying "get in the car, Cindy." 

A few days after this dream, I spent two minutes in supported fish pose. This pose feels nice between the shoulders but also leaves your neck exposed. I had been warned that I might get a wave of panic having my neck exposed while hanging out for two minutes in fish. You know, like having the feeling that a wild dog is going to come rip your throat out for no reason what so ever. Except I never did get that feeling. Actually, I've never had that feeling in this pose. I've never felt panic or fear in any yoga pose. Instead of fighting fear induced anxiety, I ended up fighting tears. My eyes welled up and spilled down the sides of my face. My throat is the first thing affected when tears attack. It closes up and I can't talk. I can barely even breath. Losing the ability to squeak out a word makes me furious, which in turn, makes me cry harder. It's usually pretty ugly. I wrinkled my brow and wondered why I was suddenly crying in fish pose and still able to breath.

It is not that I purposefully or willfully refuse to recognize a dangerous situation as maybe being dangerous. And don't think for a minute that I am not scared in these situations. It's just that stubbornness is the rock, while fear becomes the scissors in this game. Stubbornness wins every time. I love supported fish pose. I practice that pose ALL of the time. I never once thought about how my throat was exposed or the dangers involved in exposing your throat. Now, all I can think about is that scene from Roadhouse where Patrick Swazye rips that guy's throat out with his bare hand. This should creep me out or make me shy away from poses that expose my throat. Instead, I find it slightly hilarious. That scene is ridiculous, though if you ask the guys I work with, they'll say that it is awesome, in the same way that Bill and Ted are awesome. I am comfortable in dangerous situations, at ease, in my element and even can relax enough to cry. 

So yeah, I'd probably still ride that roller coaster, because that's the whole point and there's something worthy of gratitude in this somewhere. You don't know how anything is going to end, so you might as well enjoy the ride.