I met God in a castle on a mountain……… okay, maybe it was more like a Mayan inspired brick house on a hill. But it seemed like a castle. It was there I read the book, ‘Conversations with God’. In it, ‘God’ says that he/she/it speaks to us all the time..through experiences, song lyrics, commercials, an overheard rant from a vagrant person at a stoplight..essentially, anything that catches your attention could be a message from the divine. All we have to do is pay attention. Now before you pooh-pooh this possibility, give it a go. I did, and blow-my-knickers-up-with-a-whisper, it worked. ‘God’ was listening! and responding to my prayers/thoughts, angst filled rants in my journal. Amazing right? Example you ask? Many, but here’s one of my favorites: I am watching tv and a promo for a new sitcom appears. I recognize the lead as a young woman I had counseled the year prior about following her dream of acting ( when I say counsel I mean I listened and then prompted her to realize what she already knew)and here she is, the lead in a new NBC sitcom. Well. Despite feeling pleased that she had obviously done well in her pursuits, I also felt deeply morose about my own lack of accomplishment. I went on a mind-fuck bender for a bit, even managing a few tears and a ‘whoas me’ or two. Then, a commercial catches my attention: A beautiful couple, black-tie dressed, tickets to the opera, a dark and stormy night… in the headlights of their car, stands a wet, miserable looking dog…the couple look at each other, look at their tickets, and the next shot is of the man carrying the wet dog to their car. The screen fades black, and then: IF YOU’VE DONE ONE THING….YOU’VE DONE SOMETHING.
Instantly, I am flooded with many emotions: pride, embarrassment,gratitude, but mostly, love. Because at that very moment, lying comfortably on my bed, is a dog that I had plucked off of the rainy sidewalk just the day before. I saw that dog, bloodied and obviously exhausted and scared, being avoided by everyone on that sidewalk (because he was a pit bull),and leapt into action, coaxing him with a piece of deli meat. He went immediately to the vet and cost me money I didn’t have to fix him up. I don’t tell you this to toot my own hero horn, I know that a lot of people would do the same as I that day. I tell you because when that commercial came on, I understood immediately that I had accomplished something, I made all the difference in the world to that dog, and ‘God’ was giving me a gentle chuck on the chin for my silliness. It was a ‘God’ moment, and it was unmistakable. Also, I was sitting in that previously mentioned castle, rent free. That was quite something as well. I was actually living in a historical monument. It had a view that made me feel like a girl of privilege and possibility. Designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, built in 1926,and called ‘The Ennis House’. How in the hell did someone from anyone get to live in a historic monument, you ask? Well. Mix cute, nice girl with super old dude in need of a household caretaker, blend just the right amount of opportunity, and zing! In-sies! And get your noodle out of the gutter, I did no nasty bits for entry-ever. Well, I did have to pick up dog doo, and do his laundry, but that’s icky on an entirely tolerable level for living in a castle in the sky, right? I soaked up every moment like I was junkie bread mopping up heroin gravy….I spent many nights star gazing on my window ledge, marveling in this unique spot in the world. I would volunteer as a docent and give tours, proud when the group would troop into the room I lived in and I could tell them this was mine, taking credit for nothing more than fortunate circumstance. I learned quite a bit about the architect, and the reverence for what he’d done in this space made me stop, sit still and listen for the first time in my life.
I’d struggled with faith, or rather, the lack of, my entire life. I grew up without proper supervision, and so ended up being quite short in some significant areas. This was handed home to me by my then lover whom, when he broke with me, called me a dichotomy, being in love with one half and repelled by the other. He was very successful, and I was very..not. My astonishing insensitivity to his sensitivities coupled with not having a clue what I was supposed to do with my life, led to a premature end of my first significant love. I did nothing but sit still for some time after that, medicating with wine and weed, not even attempting to recover the sense of belief I’d had of myself, because even though God did speak to me, in that beautiful house on the hill, my ears may have well been stuffed with stones because I did not hear it. I did not believe in me and I went on, wounded and stumbling, for years… Although I stared and stared, there was no blueprint in the stars..your purpose is what you say it is , and I had nothing to say then. It is mine alone to bear..and yet what saddens me most to this day is that I did not really listen, really hear what I’d heard from God that first time, in the Ennis House on the hill. I did the thing I feared the most- I stayed in the shallow end of life. I refused to believe that I had something to offer. It took far too long for me to figure out what it is I’m supposed to be doing with my life..how to utilize my gifts. I’d found a good job, the kind with just enough of the lies you tell yourself to avoid the real rainbow. Only now, eleven years later, am I taking my first steps toward who it is I truly am. Prompted again by a heartache, but this time held up and encouraged by someone who did not turn away from my flaws, ( helped, surely because I did not repeat the mistakes I made) who loves me, really loves me. And that has made all the difference.
Women like me don’t get pregnant. Certainly not twice, easily.
