Supernatural Adventures

A few things have elevated my spirits (flattened by distress around the store) --including the day trip to the Great Lake with Marz...

...and a visit from my landlord yesterday.
He is the best!
He must have taken the Mister Rogers Course in Talking to Preschoolers Tenants. He is clear and covers all the bases when he talks to me. Like this: he said,

"Since the loose screen is functional, I would like to wait on fixing it. I'll come back mid-September when I will be doing other repairs and fix it.  You don't have to be home when I come. Is that acceptable?"

Genius, huh?

He's care-full too.
I showed him I'd arranged six bricks by the north door, so I don't track dirt in.
He went to his truck and came back with an outdoor doormat:
"You could twist your ankle on the bricks. You can have this, it will work better. "

Well, maybe that's "just" a nice guy practicing good property management, but personally, it makes me feel almost worshipful––LOL––it's such a huge contrast with my workplace's lack of care (or kindness) toward workers' safety and comfort.

Also, the blue and white pot I got at the store ^ makes me happy and cheers up the north entrance. (The pot is not to my taste for inside, but I can store it in the basement in the winter.)

Anyway--I'm glad I'm feeling lifted, expansive, instead of squashed, because tomorrow I'm going to the therapist for the first time, and in my current mode, I'm excited about that.
I didn't get a great feeling from the therapist on the phone, but after the lake winds and the landlord's clarity cleared my mind, I thought,
Eh, I don't care if she's a perfect match.

This is not about her.
It's about me activating my options--me being willing to SEEK HELP, and me being willing to experiment. It's an adventure!

I wasn't seeing it that way when I got a statement from the therapy practice a few days ago, notifying me of the costs. I owe nothing because my therapy is being paid for by a grant, but they said that legally, they have to inform me of the cost.
(I'm only starting this therapy because Big Boss told us about this "Be Well" grant for workers in this (our) area where there's been so much devastation.)

Anyway, they informed me that my grant is $2,000, and each one-hour (50 minute?) session with a therapist costs $185.

WHOA.
Did I ever have a huge reaction against that.
I make $15/hour, and the therapy provider makes $185/hour? (Minus overhead and all that blah blah blah.)
No wonder when I asked what bus went to her workplace, she didn't know. (It's the number 63.)

The socio-economics agitated me so badly, I thought about not going.

But then I thought--wait a second, Little Miss Reactivity. This is a GIFT.
Isn't it nice, after all, that some people somewhere thought,
"Hey, we should help out the workers who've been showing up the past coupla years in this benighted strip of real estate" . . . even if their conclusion was, "Let's grant them some Very Expensive Therapy"?

And then, the amount of the gift came into focus. Two thousand dollars. That's the amount I gave BJ in the last months of her life--the money I was earning house/cat-sitting.

When I'd given her the check, she'd thanked me and said,
"This will come back to you."

I'd said, "Well, thanks, BJ... I don't exactly believe that, but I'm not worried about it either. I'm just happy I have this to share with you."

And she'd said, "Wait and see."

__________________

So--here's the thing. I don't believe BJ is sending me 2K. I don't believe my dead auntie arranged for me to find a shower curtain in the alley.

I do believe that kindness and love have long extension cords--they continue to deliver even when the source is far away, gone....

I don't think the therapy grant is pay-back for the money I gave BJ. 
BJ couldn't pay me back (she was dying), but she wanted me to be paid back supernaturally––and I believe it is that––her willing of GOOD for me––that comes back.
I can count on that returning, again and again, because when I remember that someone cared for me, willed Good for me--that, that is the superpower.

That is the superpower that lets me put aside my resentment and skepticism and ask instead:

Hey, BJ, whatcha think the Universe has in store for me? What gifts and challenges are going to come to me on this adventure? And how am I going to find new and better ways to be Very Annoyed Indeed?

Let's go see!

P.S--it's garden flower season--my favorite! From the farmers market: