[reader warning: The following is hazardously convoluted, and there seems to be nothing I can do about it.]
The Day After Earth day, I Stood Still
A Mediocre Tale of Signs, Signals and Sorrow:
An illusionary, yet once seemingly passionate, two month romance disappears, revealing itself to be nothing more then a dispassionate, self serving and isolatory experience, thus inevitably coming to an abrupt, and non-consequential standstill, and how all the signs were there, if only I'd opened my eyes- all three of them- and looked.
Even in the hind-sightedly insignificant experiences in life, there often seems to lie concrete connections to the greater universe. Proof in pudding situations that reassure the journeyman (journey woman?)...journey person that his/her/their journey is meaningful, has deeper significance then just the present moment, and that no path seeker is alone.
Surely our brain is the maker and seeker and putter-together of such patterns. This however should never stand in the way of sorting out what these patterns might mean to us, the great creators of purpose. Whether the universe is literally revealing this purpose, or if it is just our minds making it up as it goes along, it is no less significant. In short, no matter from where destiny stems (be it from the moon,stars and cosmos, or from a pretend game swiftly made up by our cunning, trickster brains) destiny it remains.
The three following accounts, listed in no particular order, in fact listed quite out of sequential order, are three signs that may or may not have pointed to a destination I didn't see coming till I got there. Like most circumstances in life, I didn't know what hit me. I am hoping that by exploring possible signals that may or may not have existed along the way, it will help me in the future, and maybe even you dear reader, as you are so often called, to see the ball coming, if only for seconds before it hits. We can take the hit. Its the not knowing which seems to be the worse part, non? Alright, like hot sweaty teenagers in a rural community with nothing better to do then cruising and cow tipping on an early Sunday morning, lets open our trunks and start stealing those predestined signs off there metaphyscial make-shift posts!
Sign #3 The La Cita Stomping
Thursday night, happy hour night.
While at the LA Club/bar La Cita, and after three margaritas (well, most probably after many more actually, since there was a wrist band involved that night which allowed the purchase of 25 cent drinks) and while getting our mutual groove on, a girl in stiletto healed boots stomped on my left foot.
I stared at this girl in the stylized weapon of chic, she stared back at me, mouthing the words, "I'm soooo sorry." I slowly exited the dance floor, one limp after the next. I was in such a flurry of dance and tequila I had to be alone to quietly ascertain the situation: "Was I in pain?" "Did that actually hurt me?" "Was I being unreasonable in gasping and shrieking like that?" I quickly assessed the following: Yes. It was pain I was experiencing, but I was currently too numb to physically yet feel the implication of the pain I somehow already felt emotionally.
Satisfied that I least knew where I stood, though due to tipsiness, heat, and injury i could indeed barely stand, I limped my way the whole three feet back to the disco lit arena, and continued to dance under what I have recently come to realize is a very weird mural of a seemingly very excited bull painted along the front of the La Cita dance floor. (I don't get why its there, but it has nothing to do with anything, so, as is life, we must move on.)
The next morning I awoke to a purple foot and strange feelings surging through me, suggesting that perhaps the tequila had numbed me from more then just a stranger's spiky stance.
Sign #1 The Wine Drop
One entire week before the La Cita Stomping, while checking out of a grocery store, a friend dropped a wine bottle on the very same soon to be bruised and battered left foot. When the bottle fell, having not yet drunk from it's contents, I cussed immediately. My friend stared at me and said "Sweetie, please don't do this. Its not like I did it on purpose." This friend, it must be noted, is my gay boyfriend, and if you know anything about gay boyfriends' relationships with their straight girlfriends, its pretty much all about the boy. Its also pretty much known that we girlfriends put up with this unavoidable homo-narcissism in exchange for free haircuts, facials and empty promises of lots of presents once the gay boyfriend is a famous tv star. (Girlfriends also generally put up with hetero-narcissism from straight boyfriends, but for very different reasons.)
Sign #2 Soap Unleashed
Cut to two days after the wine drop, five days before the La Cita Stomp. Same foot, in a shower. My then (straight) boyfriend drops a bar of soap on the very same foot, in the very same spot the wine bottle had crushed, and that the stiletto heal would soon smash. Once again, completely sober, I gasped. Straight boyfriend gives no remark at all. As I'm rubbing and grasping onto my foot, I sort of mutter "um. ouch. OW. wow. That really hurt." Straight boyfriend finally gives the surprisingly sincere acknowledgment: "I didn't do it on purpose." I whimper to myself, "hmmm....hetero-narcissism. we should go back to bed."
Shuffling it all together...
The Tuesday following the La Cita stomp, I explain these three separate foot abuse scenarios to my friend Paula who is promptly convinced these three episodes are symptomatic of my inability to step forward into the strength of my femininity. For those who may not be so savvy to metaphysical musings, let it be known, the right side of the body represents the masculine, while the left side of the body represents the feminine.
Paula and I both very much enjoy talking about the world in an upside down, spiraling, inter-dimensional manner because it satisfies our need to explore the world in our own ways. I enjoy it because of my background in literary symbolism and mythology, and also because it helps me to make sense of a world in which I don't actually want to do anything, like work, pay off credit cards or make long term goals past planning what movie I want to see at the Archlight on Friday. I think Paula enjoys it because she used to be Mormon. Due to these Mormon years, Paula keeps a fully stocked pantry and extra water bottles, enjoys board games and loves to delve into the mysteries of the unknown.
Mysteries like why a 34 year old woman's left foot might be stomped on in exactly the same spot for two weeks running- and the fact that the smashing occurred a total of three times? Well in a metaphysical grab bag world, it is a blatant sign of . . . something. As Paula puts it, "Its obvious."
Marching Forward
Some may say I haven't a leg to stand on. Getting hurt in the same place isn't a sign, its a coincidence. A silly lark really. But on Earth Day, which happened to be the Thursday following the La Cita stomp, the last of the 3 part foot episodes, my then boyfriend, the straight one, the one who dropped the soap on my foot and then courageously defended his honor, voted to stop seeing me. He didn't want to see other people, he just didn't want see me. He cited, nothing really. When prodded a little, he said he didn't feel differently about me, just about the relationship.
And he isn't wrong. The relationship changed. Well, I guess one could say it dissolved into a quiet nothingness. Which begs the following questions:
Had the wine bottle come to warn me to stay present? to step forward? that change is coming?
Was the soap a subconscious act on my now ex-boyfriend's part to warn me that he was ready to "walk" away from me and the relationship?
Was the La Cita stomping my final hail to wake up and realize that I was immobilized and this current relationship wasn't going anywhere?
Yes. I think its obvious.
On Earth Day night, a few hours after the agreement had been reached that he and I would now finally just walk away from one another, for no reason other then nothing seemed to be moving forward, I returned to La Cita. This Thursday night, there was no dancing. The floor remained empty the entire night. No wrist bands, no parties. The mural bull stood quietly in his strange little half retro/half tongue in cheek world. The disco light dazzled, but it seemed to spin a little slower. Much like a low flying flag set up to remember the past, and take a quiet moment to think about what isn't; it told me to move on, step forward and trudge, trudge, trudge along.
Dancing into the Now...
My foot is now fully healed and all of this seems like a hazy, distant, dream-like memory. I am now focusing on being present, looking at what is really happening around me in life and being healthy. I've been going to the gym too. Its a funny thing, but I seem to have hurt my shoulder there. There is a horrible round mass of muscles that won't seem to relax. I've never quite experienced anything like it before. My sister tried massaging it out, but it is quite a determined, nasty little knot, as if there to say to me, 24 hours a day, "notice me!" My brain wonders if this may be the beginning of some kind of Atlas Syndrome- a "weight of the world" on my shoulders type thing. I guess I'll wait it out and see if my brain pieces anything else together. If it does, I'm sure my third eye hind sight vision will be out in full 20/20 force.
