Earlier this week, I could tell when I woke one morning with my lower back cracked in two, (symbol: support…maybe…perception is everything), that I was in for one hell of a time. Literally, I could not stand. I don’t remember such excrutiating pain. I was doubled over making me weary from the lack of proper energy flow. I felt like Jed Clampet’s wife, ‘Granny’ in the Beverly Hillbillies. Fiesty, bent over, but not really in a good way.
Damn I dislike the human element at times….when pain arrives and you JUST want to clobber someone else like it was their fault. I know better though can’t always control my tongue, or more accurately, my energy. My former husband was correct when he asserted,
‘BB, you can be saying ALL the right things, but your ENERGY speaks volumes.’
So, my appeal as a boss earlier this week was less than perfect. I work to be relatively transparent with my team….FYI…..
‘Best to step out of the way folks….I’m ‘Annie Get Your Gun’, ‘Taming of the Shrew’ and ‘Super Woman on steroids’ today….please, please accept my apologies and ignore the steaming toad on the third floor.’
And, frankly, I’m wearing the crown in the wrong Christmas parade until we can get someone more suitable to take my role.
Read: Gilled and out of water, bear in the mall, not the woods, the pope in a stripe joint, not the Vatican.
And so….I sufficently made a mess of things everywhere I went….in fact, realized I was a master at how to foil most any situation, an argument at the post office as I couldn’t understand Ms. Yugongolikzx’s accent and thought she told me to ‘go away’, when really she said, ‘come this way’. (I didn’t mean to pick a fight).
I inadvertently insulted the grocery clerk, (I thought she was pregnant), and then did my very best to micromanage everyone on my team when my true desire was to support, cleanly and neatly direct if needed and go about my other chores for the day. Foiled. I ate worms all the lovelong day. I fumbled like a baseball player on Quaaludes. All in a bent over position as truly, my 5’7″ was today reduced to a crooked 5’4″.
Then, that evening, I hosted a networking event of North Georgia Women, most of them from the Athens area. I went to their first meeting last month and enjoyed the group entirely. I was eager to have them to Carl House as that is what I love to do, host events that make people feel welcome, serve nice wine and lots of tasty food with candles and flowers and all the things which make people feel good, welcomed and loved on. I love to LOVE ON people. And I enjoy watching their comfort. I really, REALLY do!
But oooh, I was rushing around, which is hard to do while doing Grandma impersonations. Ohhhh, I knew I’d brought this on….when I ask for change, darn if I’m not powerful and the Universe delivers….sometimes with a kapow which manifests FIRST in my body! all good in the ‘big’ picture.
There I was, stooped over, getting ready for the grand soiree, setting up the buffet, lighting candles, arranging the table just so with wine and other drinks, assuring that our artichoke dip was hot, mozzerella kabobs all in a row, the music was on, lights dimmed just so….I’m a slave to the details and would have it no other way….surely when it comes to my guests.
And in came a parade of lovely women, cold from the outside air, cheeks chilly with our air kisses and hugs. Taking coats and pouring wine, introducing one woman to another, listening to stories….it was so wonderfully consuming, how much more satisfying to focus on them, not this offset day and my broken lumbar. Surely the wine had some influence as well!
And soon, soon, I found myself sitting at a table of jovial ladies, one a dear old friend who has helped plan several animal fund raisers at my facility. Rozanne Rose, now publisher of Jackson Living Magazine, shared her latest pet stories and the strays she’d recently taken in. She shared the story of how Otis, an adorable bulldog she fostered had to recently be ‘put down’, (such a terrible expression). I’d intereviewed her and Otis on my former tv show hoping to find him a home but alas, he remained Roxane’s ‘foster’ for years.
Soon the entire table was sharing cat and dog stories, laughter at peak level over our dogs and how they stealthfully sneak to the litter box for fresh ‘cat poohs’ as though they were chocolates steeped in hazelnut liquor. Oh the laughter was building over our Savignon Blanc and Petit Sirah.
The founder of our group, the effervescent Joan Curtis, author and executive coach shared how she taught HER cat to use the toilet…..gales of laughter over THOSE images…..me sharing my own mime of walking in on a Maine Coon Cat who I lived with eons ago in Vermont as he ‘tinkled’ in the potty! Upon walking into the bathroom I found ‘Roy Earl’ straddling the toilet. I swiftly turned around so as not to invade his privacy then did a double take and pronounced, outloud,
WHAT’…..Roy Earl, you’re on the toilet dude!!’
Joan then shared a recent purchase, a kitty commode which you attach to your very own toilet. Once Madam or Mister Kitty do their ‘biness’, once they hop off the john, a motor is triggered which begins to move their ‘droppings’ in a churning machine eventually ending up in the toilet.
I think it was Lori who with a quizzical look on her brow asked, ‘do you work the crossword puzzle together as well??
With bent over laughter I realized I felt no more pain!
I am navigating a growth corner and damn if it’s not a hard turn and the wheel is rusty as am I at this new turn. But I am adept at change….I welcome it and know more importantly the price I pay if I don’t follow through.
I am sure where I need to be (roughly). And as I confidently struggle, (is that an oxymoron), through where I am now, I KNOW it is a necessary place from which to travel.
Ooooh, the power of We, the power of friends, the invisible support which IS with us, always.
Thank you ladies…..really, really, really…..thank you. I momentarily forgot.
How I love, love, love to laugh.
Might we share such fun til we’re crinkled and frail!