Friday, June 20, 2008

stranded: a communion with anger

At the most inappropriate time for dysfunction, the car breaks down again, wafting smoke from the steering wheel, I agree with the sentiment and light a cigarette. Blood pressure rising as panic creeps into the racing heart beat, I tell myself well at least its right outside my home as I stopped off to pick up a camera battery as I am using it for the job today.

My anger, a resident of this helpless feeling, isn’t ready to count my blessings, isn’t ready to look at the brighter side of this current dilemma. There are things I need to do, places I need to be…like work, and I don’t have time for another problem layered on top of problems cracking my patience these days. I kiss my fingers and touch the tattoo above my heart, a celtic circle representing the maden, mother and crone; promising my anger’s frustration that soon we can release. A bike ride later in the evening once I can get to my own time, but until then I go inside, grab some change, the IPod, and walk to the bus stop. Its one transfer and at least 45 minutes on the bus back to work where the work car resides and I’ll need music to loosen my heart rate to something manageable for the time being. Another late night working.

I imagine the quicken pace of riding the bike, letting anger pump the muscles, snuffing out this piercing alarm going off in my head with sweat. I hope to exhaust this overwhelming sense of drowning with movement. Ah, but I am not there yet. Not even close. Other’s crisis on the task list, homeless individuals to attend to – the irony is I am traveling on the bus to focus on another crisis, while my own sits unmovable in front of my home. Whatevs, I cackle a grizzled laugh in my mind, I can deal with anything.

I figure my neighbors will help me move the car to the back, off the streets where the police ticket the stranded vehicles. I figure with the next paycheck I can get the ignition fixed, knowing a side street mechanic who might take pity. I figure that I have the bus, bike, and a work vehicle to get me through the next week. I figure I can get through this as I count the blessings laid out before me to help me get through. I add to the list empathy & compassion, as my experience offers me the grace to understand how difficult life can get with the simplest of problems – no transportation – for the clients I work with.

Anger doesn’t want clarity, doesn’t want to count those damn blessings, so I hold my frustration and tell myself I prefer to count opportunity and not problems as my guide forward, promising once again, anger will have its place on the bike, pushing as hard as it wants to.

I text my lover, tell her my woos, I add this opportunity to the list. She text me back thoughts of me lingering between cell phones. Modern day communication, another blessing, another resource.

I am completely aware of myself. 31 years has taught me a happy life doesn’t reside in what we have – those materials purchased – or among placid days where no problems lie, but with the ability to feel competent when sh!t hits the fan.

Sigh. Still a new car would be nice or at least the chance to occlude this bleeder car of mine. Phht. Until then, at least I have my blessings.


BendingPeak said...

Ah I love to sound of your posts, your true voice, you.
I am sorry for your woes, but glad that you have your whole you.
Thinking of you,

Anonymous said...

You are amazing.