My mother told me a story today on the phone.
“There was this dog just sitting in the middle of the road. The busiest road in Midland. And all the cars just stopped. I mean, everyone just stopped. I thought, dang, well I’m gonna have to get out and get it, you know? I didn’t want it to get run over. And just as I was opening my car door, a woman pulled up and called the dog over. It ran and jumped in her car. It was her dog. And she looked over at me and I looked over at her and we just smiled. I just about cried. I did cry. I said, Thank you God! Thank you. I really needed that today.
Because earlier I was sitting there, listening to the news on the radio and thinking, what’s happening out there, you know? I said, God, just show me a sign. Something. I’m going to go crazy.
And then that thing with the dog happened. And I said, Thank you God. There are kind people out there. I mean, all those other cars? They could have just kept going. But they didn’t.
And what I’m trying to say is, sometimes you feel like that dog. And you do feel like that dog right now, don’t you? I mean, you’re sitting there, lost, don’t know which way to go. And while some people aren’t helping you outright, like those other cars, they aren’t trying to hurt you either. And just when you need it, just when you really, really need it, someone comes along and saves you. The Universe comes along and picks you up and takes you to where you need to go. Right when you least expect it, too.
But the dog? He just sat there very calm. He was lost and in the middle of nowhere, couldn’t find his way around or home, but he still just sat there, calm. If you want to look at it this way, he had faith. He didn’t run.
And anyway, I was just thinking about that. Because I was so upset hearing the news in my car and feeling like I had no control, because I don’t have any control. But I asked God, I said, give me a sign, show me some hope. And I don’t know…It was just so nice to see that whole thing play out. And that happened right after I was thinking all those thoughts. And seeing that lady and all the people willing to stop their cars…”
As I listened to my mom tell me what had happened to her earlier in the day, I also started crying. When she described the woman pulling up just as my mom was going to get out of her car, and how that woman smiled at my mom and my mom smiled back, I was crying, too. I didn’t exactly know why until my mom kept telling the story. About how, just when you least expect it, and when you most need it, something comes along.
There’s a lot of transition going on. Sometimes I don’t notice, and other times I’m so still and frozen with worry that all I see is a turmoil of change. But it’s always happening. Transitions, movements. It’s hard to keep still. Hard to have faith that things work out just how they are supposed to.
“You just have to tell yourself, every day, every hour, that this is where I’m supposed to be. This is exactly where the Universe wants me to be.” my mom said.
Earlier today, I happened across a random Youtube video at work. Someone was giving a talk. I think it was Wayne Dyer, because I tend to listen to inspirational speakers at work while doing mundane office tasks. And he said something that I had to write down. “Infinite patience produces immediate result. You retreat in peace and let the Universe handle the details.”
Seems this message is coming across a lot to me lately. Universe whispering things I need to hear.
Of course I know these lessons. Often times I will even spat off all this to friends when they come to me with anxiety or trouble. And I’m usually the one writing the essays on faith and trust. But then I go through my own phases of needing to hear them again and again. I forget.
I read over my old diaries and find myself worrying about things that I worry about in the present. And even in those diaries I’ll reference earlier times I’d worried about similar things even earlier in time and I’ll write, “Shannon, why can’t you just see, as it has shown in the past and in these earlier entries, that everything works out for your good?” But, I forget. A lot.
My mom also said, “Remember back to a time you were a fighter. Know that you’re still a fighter, and that no matter what happens, you’ll be fine. You’ll fight through and be strong.”
I told her I do remember that fighter in me. The one who could survive in the wilderness, alone. Climb a mountain, dying of thirst and exhaughstion and make it to the top, glowing.
There’s something infinite in all of us. And I keep reading about this infinite power. A kind of beam to the sky, is how I see it, connecting me to someone who isn’t me, but is more the force in everything. The energy expanding towards and inward and outward.
A while ago, I had a dream that I was floating in outer space. It wasn’t me, per se, but I was expansive. In fact, the stars were little pin pricks that tickled my “body” (not a body, a space) and I looked at earth, very fragile and glowing. And I felt whatever expanding energy and beam of light I sometimes, only slightly, feel now.
Cup your hands, he said, and say “ready to receive”
Ready to receive.
Don’t you feel it, he said.