Looking at the remnants of a broken passenger side window, my brain is fluttering.
I received an email from a person who said they found some books and a journal of mine about two miles up the road from where I live. (Along with broken glass.)
Ah, great. I think to myself.
I rush home to see my car had been broken into. All they had taken was my brown bag which contained Susan Cain’s “Quiet” (a book on being introverted, ha!), Marco Pierre White’s “A Devil in the Kitchen” and my food journal. I’m guessing in a sense of desperation, they grabbed the first thing that could maybe be valuable. Though they left my $120 chef’s knife and stereo. I guess people don’t steal stuff like that anymore.
Yeah, I was mad. Mostly because I don’t really have $190 bucks to get a new window, but also, I have stuff to do. Places to go. Things to move. (Including myself.) I suppose there are just some things you can’t control. Which just so happens to be most things.
I do have a lot to be angry about.
Leaving this city, regardless of the ridiculous shit that happens. But that’s every city, every day.
Leaving family and friends.
Being a wreck.
I had to sit on my bed a few minutes ago and breathe in and breathe out, chanting to myself, “Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out.”
But dammit, I did not need this to happen too.
Regardless of the unfortunate situation that occurred yesterday, I came home from work and fried a bunch of catfish with my roommates. They poured me a beer and we commiserated for a second, and got on with our evening. Saying things like, “Man, I’m sorry, but I’d be so angry…you’re handling this so well!!”
I sort of just stare at the ground and raise my shoulders. “I dunno.”
Yes, someone broke into my car. It’s unfortunate. I can be mad if I want to. But that does not add to my life. I’ve learned this as of late. It is broken regardless of how I feel. I can, instead, be grateful for the last few moments that I am with people I care about. I can cook them food and listen to their stories.
A broken windshield usually equals a pretty crappy day. You’re angry there’s not justice and that you have to foot the bill. But sheesh, this is story of millions.
I suppose though, going through a divorce, and a separation of body and soul, your priorities of anger change. Being alone is a hard thing. Doubting yourself, and your goodness is hard too.
Allowing your own voices to tear you apart is dangerous.
So what, a dude thought he could snatch something for a fix. He/She’s fighting their own battle. A battle that happened to include my car. I don’t know, I could be really mad. But I sort of laugh through it, because the pendulum always swings both ways.
I will allow myself to break down when I need to. But a broken window is not a determining factor.
Yes, I am tired and weary. The long road is ahead of me and I will say goodbye to the Rose City. I am also so thankful for its grace in my time of growing. You take the good with the bad. There is room for it all.
And when you need more space in your heart, you will mourn the loss of that anger and love that fueled your change, and you will wake up with something fresh. Something new, and something you know will become more familiar with time.
Here’s to healing,
and fixed windows,
and the long road ahead.