fresh off the presses...from me to you, right here, right now.
The Power of Circumstance
I was at a writing seminar yesterday, one aimed at promotion and communication, but strangely, the topic turned into a discussion about making restitution for harm done, dealing with resentments, and the like. Everyone in the room shared about experiences they'd had when apologizing for certain damage caused to family, coworkers, friends, agents, publishers, readers, and more.
Tired from a long day, I tuned in and out of the conversation, and my mind raced as it often does, and I worried about the chair I sat in, and I shifted, sitting on the edge (typical me), but I stopped fidgeting long enough to think about my personal reaction to things -- how I feel a sensation in my gut when I know it's time to make an amends for certain behavior. These days, I sincerely try to keep "my side of the street" clean when it comes to causing harm.
Of course, we are all human, and flaws often shine at work, in writing, in all relationships, and certainly, when becoming vulnerable enough to love.
But then, one woman in the back raised her hand. She was stocky in stature, and she wore a loose tank top and shorts; her hair was half-combed in a messy bob. And I also noticed that over the course of the hours in the room, she had developed a certain rapport with the one child who was there. Repeatedly, she whispered to him and gave him high fives. When she spoke, she struggled with a speech impediment, but she spoke with fervor. Her tone rose and fell with each sentence, hammering her words home. And she focused on the fear people often feel when attempting transparency, when sharing our intimate rights and wrongs. She spoke of the internal terror that enters our hearts and minds when we are forced to become soulfully real with those around us.
I listened close. My eyes felt dry. I had forgotten to blink.
As she spoke on, she spat a little.
And her last few sentences hit my mind with a jolt, then slowly sank into my core.
She said, "If you're feeling nervous, anxious, or you're shaking, don't be afraid. God is right by your side."
Sometimes, I feel quite in tune with a spiritual entity, and I stay close to what I know as a higher power -- my friend, my guide, my better twin, if you will. Other times, I may lose all sense of this connection and drift away. For me, it is a relationship like any other; I have to work at it. But when I heard this woman's words, and I realized that I hadn't even planned on going to this seminar (I decided at the last minute), I was shockingly reminded of the power of circumstance, and I knew that some force out there was speaking directly to me through her. And I reminded myself, as many wise people have said, I'm right where I'm supposed to be.
And with this thought, in this moment, I felt free of my current worries -- worries about my third book coming out, worries about relationships, worries about being alone, worries about finances, and on and on. I felt free of the loss I've been feeling lately. I felt free of the fresh rejection. I felt free of the desire to change how others perceive and react to me. I felt free of the chatter and the noise in my restless brain. It all seemed to rush away, because suddenly, I understood that indeed, I am not alone. I was never alone. And I was reminded that my search for a partner, for success, and for fulfillment is truly a disguise for my true, honest quest for a loving spirit that many people call God.
Twenty years ago, a stranger told me that he wanted to be a director. I told him that I wanted to be a writer. Guess what? We are both doing exactly what we spoke about, and I remember the way that his blue eyes shone, and to me, his words and soul were stunning. He was a stranger, just like the woman at this seminar. But are any of us strangers at all?
From the hawks, from the magnificent thunder, from this woman's words, from ridiculous happenings, from the laughter over broken eggs and spilled milk, from lessons I've learned through the patterns that continually appear in my life, I know this: there must be something out there pulling for you and me.
The woman at this seminar was my passionate reminder. I wish I didn't need reminders. I wish I could carry this feeling with me every moment I'm breathing, the feeling that we are all coming from the same place; we just have different skin on.
We are not alone. We were never alone. Rest assured that there is an inherent soulful presence resting deep inside this journey we call life.
C.A. MacConnell
