You know how some people are always crediting “The Universe” or even God for sending them appropriate secret messages? There’s a hilarious Amy Schumer video on Youtube with little vignettes showing Amy and her wacky friends crediting The Universe for giving permission for Amy to get drunk and cheat with her married boss. “When I saw the rainbow this morning, I knew it was God telling me to buy a colorful new outfit.”
Well, this morning I felt like I was getting a message from The Universe. I have been feeling stressed, nervous, and weirdly absent-minded lately. For example, Monday I filled the car up with gas down at Costco in Spartanburg. I was so excited about the low price, that I requested a receipt to show Ron the bargain. I took the receipt I studied it with glee as I got into the car and headed back to I-26. A short way down the road I heard a thumping and pulled over to investigate. It was my gas cap flamming against the side of the car. I had a moment of horror as I contemplated the damage I might have done to the gas pump as I drove off with the nozzle still inserted in the gas tank. Should I go back and make sure I hadn’t caused any damage? No. The Universe told me to keep driving. I hadn’t found the nozzle still in the gas tank, so it must be just fine. Message received.
Feeling low this morning because my bank balance is even lower than my mood, I peeked at Facebook and was sad to see that our dear friend Kenny Capps is in the hospital with pneumonia. His chemo plays havoc with his immune system. He should be home in a few days, but still I thought, “The Universe is telling me that I am a horrible person for feeling sorry for myself when there are wonderful people right here with real problems.”
Later at the bank making a pitiful deposit, I began to fall back into the self-pitying mood until I spotted a young man ahead of me on line with fresh scars on his scalp. He had trouble forming his words and I allowed all manner of horrible possible infirmities to flash across my mind. Thanks, Universe, for that slap in the face!
Seeing that guy also reminded me of that time when Natty was just seven years old and he was attacked by Libby Dumbell’s Old English show dog. We were getting ready to go out for pizza with the boys playing in the yard and called them to get in the car. The dog grabbed Natty by the head and began shaking him like a rag. We raced out into the yard and Libby pulled the dogs jaws open as I hugged Natty to me, wiping blood off his face to make sure he still had intact eyes. We spent the rest of the night at the emergency room as we waited for a plastic surgeon to come in to stitch up the layers of skin that had been savaged. Underneath all that hair, Natty has scars like those of that man in the bank, but thank God there was no further damage.
Whether The Universe or God is my personal shame-giver, reminding me to stop feeling sorry for myself, the result is the same. If I keep my eyes open and look around me instead of allowing myself to wallow in First World problems, I snap to attention and put things in perspective. My life is remarkably great. I am surrounded with people I love who love me back, I have a water-tight roof over my head, and I have plenty of food to eat. I have lots of clothing to layer over my cold self to keep me warm. Most of all, my loved ones and I are all in great health.
I am totally ready for Thanksgiving, as I have so much to be thankful for.