Kneeling on Wall Street

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DY3ZEvOfD1w&feature=related

I came to the spa this morning to take care of some business I needed to attend to, and this video was sent to me. I haven't stopped listening to it yet. I spent two years working with a shaman in Steamboat Springs. I showed up in Steamboat after spending 32 years with the same man. I never intended to be in Steamboat. Aspen was my town of choice, but everything fell through there, every place to live, and every job/career opportunity. Steamboat fell into my lap one day after my last Aspen venture.

The first person I met in Steamboat was Rob Wergin. I saw his interview in the local paper, and couldn't stop looking at his picture or reading his information. Finally, I made an appointment. When I walked into his treatment room we both looked at each other and almost simultaneously asked what the other was doing in Steamboat. We both arrived at the same time, and neither one of us had "planned" it.

That was November 16, 2006. Exactly one year later I found myself kneeling on Wall Street with sacred tobacco, hawk feathers, and prayers. I was headed to NYC for a romantic weekend with a lovely man and a business meeting with Working Mother Media. Kneeling on Wall Street hadn't entered my realm of any possibility until he directed me to do just that.

Rob has this connection with "The Boys" as he calls them, and when we were out to dinner one night I saw the look on his face. It was the look that told me that he was listening to the Boys. Rob knew how to mess with me, but I knew that look all too well, and knew that when he had it, I would listen to whatever he had to say, and not only that, I would follow the directive to the "T".

Before he told me what they had to tell me, he made me promise I would do it. "Say it," he told me. "Say you'll promise that you will do this." I agreed without knowing anything.

Once I told my friend in NY what I was to do upon arriving in Manhattan, he asked if I'd wait until Saturday morning and he'd do it with me. He was concerned I'd be arrested. Since I'd never been to Wall Street, I had no idea what to expect. However, I was soon to learn his reservations. There were security and police everywhere, not to mention men and women dressed to the nines. Oh sweet jesus! What did I get myself into?

I'm still not sure. I did kneel on Wall Street -- 55 Wall Street to be exact. There seemed to be 800 doormen, women in ball gowns, men in black, and just way too many uniforms with guns. I sprinkled sacred tobacco in a circle, laid out the gifts I had been given just for this purpose, and knelt. Everyone disappeared and the energy that emanated from that circle of tobacco blew me off my knees.

I don't know what happened. I don't know how that affected anything. This I do know: Rob told me that I did good and to go enjoy my weekend. I did. I had an amazing meeting with Working Mother Media, and an even more fabulous weekend with a beautiful man. The magic was palpable. I carry those memories with me to this day.

And another thing I know is that Wall Street is no longer what it used to be. My friend told me recently that he thought about my trip to Wall Street and the changes afterward. Life is a magnificent mystery. I may never know what the purpose was, but I relish in every memory I have of that weekend.

Thank you, Rob, for sending me on that journey. Thank you, Jim, for sharing in the magic with me, and thanks, Working Mother Media, for all that you do.

What's time got to do with it?

Seriously, today's July 9th. Honest to God, how did that happen? Not to mention that it's 2009. I'm tired of this time thing. Can't we just do away with it once and for all? Can't we go to work whenever we feel like it? Same thing with eating and sleeping? What if we ran our lives by internal clocks instead? Actually, what if we ran everything in our lives from an internal barometer instead of any external ones?

For instance, I awoke this morning to water dripping from the bathroom ceiling. That's after planning a day filled with "have-to" things because of the direction my life has been going. Alyssa has her first open mic night at the new digs so there's a lot to go into preparing for it. Cyndy and I just got two parties to cater to today and in between prep time and serving time, we were going to go over a plan on how we could make a catering business work between us.

But then I awoke to water dripping from the ceiling.

Did I mention that the shelf in the closet fell and clothes are stacked on the couch, boxes filled with shoes, hats, and belts stashed in every extra space? My art supplies are in every corner possible. And surely I've mentioned that I'm working on an art project for Working Mother Media that needs to be sent to NYC as soon as possible, so my sewing machine, cutting materials, ironing board, and boxes of fabric are filling the kitchen and living room. Right now I'm propped on the end of the couch with my laptop on my knees typing in the dark, because Alyssa's fallen asleep on the couch sitting up. She stayed up last night working on things for her office space. She was there late with the electrician, a dear friend so generous to do the work, and then came home preparing for today.

I don't think I lasted being vertical much past midnight even with a couple of cups of coffee. I was working on my art, but when it comes to using the sewing machine I really need to be fully functioning. I can screw things up when I'm overly tired. And my machine's been with me longer than most relationships, and it knows when I've had enough. It will just stop working, and it did very early this morning. It kept breaking threads, and I just called it a night.

When I finally got ready for bed, it seemed to me that the bathroom ceiling was still in one piece. It was between then and when I was awakened by dripping water, that the ceiling became less dense. It's got a nice line running through it with three holes that drip water. Alyssa called maintenance right away -- a 1-866 number -- and talked with someone from India. She told them that it was an emergency. They asked where she was. Not what apartment number but what apartment complex in what state and in what town. They said they'd get right over.

From India? From what state and from what town?

Just a few weeks ago, we would've been able to go to a very wonderful man in the main building and tell him what the problem is. He would've taken care of it, but now everything goes through corporate and apparently corporate operates out of India as does every other U.S. corporation that's still intact. No, I know they don't "operate" out of India, but it's their contract labor in India that we as consumers have to deal with.

So, how long do you suppose it's going to take to get maintenance here to fix a dripping ceiling and reinstall a shelf in the closet? Well, we'll see. Let's just hope that when they arrive, I'm here to take the dog out with me, because there's no one coming in here as long as he's here alone.

But didn't this posting start out talking about time and internal barometers instead of external ones controlling how our days are being spent? And just where was I going with that concept? Oh, who knows...my external surroundings are playing way too big a role in my consciousness right now to go any deeper. The internal workings are just going to have to work without me for a while. Right now I will just master going with the flow of wherever this river takes me. (Thanks, Silky, for that metaphor this morning!)