In the New Bedlam Farm, where Rocky lives, Florence’s Irises have just popped up. I will be living in this house soon. I know it. It was meant to be. I can picture it, living there, sitting by the fire, hugging Maria after the closing. I will work on this garden myself.
We live in a world of complaint. The Internet. Banks. Airlines. Insurance companies. Politicians, government. Corporate entities that are hard to reach, unresponsive, and sometimes uncaring. Tech Support. Phone Trees. Forms and laws, liabilities and hidden fees. Customer Service and Passwords. For me, each one of these dealings has become a spiritual opportunity, a lesson, an insight. My car hit a deer Sunday and was badly damaged. I needed to deal with the police, who kept trying to shuffle me to another jurisdiction. The insurance company required forms, documents, records. I needed to talk to an adjuster, find a tow truck, get an auto body shop. I had to get an auto rental. As crises go, there are many worse than this one, but in America, life is complex, challenging. Systems are built on mistrust, liability, regulations and record keeping. There are always complications – deductibles, the discovery that I would only be reimbursed for $20 a day in rental car fees. Few of us ever know quite what we agreed to until we need to know. And we are often surprised.
All of these different stops had their own issues, requirements, confusions. All are worried about lawsuits and protect themselves. Corporations are constantly adding small fees and charges in response to the recession. The rental car company warned of a dozen fees if they found dog hair, scratches, smelled smoke or saw stains. I resolved at the beginning to not do these things:
– Complain of my bad luck.
– Complain of how “they” nickel and dime us.
– Lament the difficulty in reaching people.
– Miss the old days when you knew your insurance agent and he came to the house and took care of things.
– Wonder why deer run into cars. Say I didn’t need all of this.
– Panic about the cost and disruption.
– Lose my temper at all of the poor people caught in the system with too much work to do.
– Be discourteous to anyone.
Everyone is doing their best, I reminded myself, everyone living in their own reality. Everyone has it worse than me. I am nothing but lucky, my life is crammed with blessings.
I knew at the end of the week that I would pull it all together. At each of these places, I took a breath and chose to remain calm, courteous, open to a successful experience. In the middle of the night, I found a young police officer willing to take a few extra minutes to get me my report. After a few tries, I got someone from the insurance company on the phone, and she was helpful. I reached the insurance adjuster and told him where the car was. I called a neighbor, a mechanic, for advice. I got all the forms and filled them out. I found Maria at Performance Auto Body and she told me they would fix my car in three days once they got the parts. And then she called me up this morning and told me I could watch my car being repaired on the Web, at the gallery in their website. So it did come together, and did all work out. I have my police report. The insurance company is paying all but $200 of the $4,000 in damage. I will have my car by the end of next week.
And this morning, Maria (from the auto body shop) called me up to say I could go onto their website and see the car’s progress every day. You can come and see it too, if you wish, here. Look for the Highlander at the bottom of the page. See what a deer can do.
How nice that they thought to do this, how nice of her to call. I love my car and miss it. I will check in on it every day. In our world, patience and courtesy still works, still means something. I did not get angry, I did not get frustrated, I am not sorry in any way to be in this world, and everywhere I went on this peculiar journey I found someone I liked, someone to laugh with me and help me. Each connection, each act of courtesy and understanding is a point of light. I am getting there.
Weeks have their own rythyms, textures. My week began with dinner with our friends George and Donna. Then a deer ran into my car and was killed, and my car is in a shop, awaiting $5,000 worth of damage. I have a little rented car and I don’t like it much, but am grateful for it. We went to Vermont for two days, and we had a wonderful time and I got my cover of “The Story Of Rose”, I got a tattoo in Bellows Falls, and today Ken Norman the farrier comes to trim Rocky’s hooves. In between, I need to write some story ideas for children’s books, read the galleys of “Dancing Dogs,” my short story collection, prepare for a reading and talk at 7:30 Monday at the Spring Street Gallery in Saratoga. I will be reading from “Dancing Dogs” and talking about e-books. The public is invited. I am helping three friends set up blogs and I love doing that.
Blogs can be an affirmation, a creative spark. I think sometimes of myself as sitting in a chair, and waiting for life to just come by me. I never seem to know what to expect, and what I never expect what comes. I’m going to get some spiritual counseling this morning with Mary Muncil. It’s been a few weeks and I told her I need a tune-up. Everyone should have a Mary Muncil, I think. Someone e-mailed me from Montana that they are talking to Mary on the phone and she changed their life. Wow.
