YEAR OF THE PURGE, PART ONE
In the past year I:
-Lost Bindi's cat
-Was named one of Chicago's top singles (ha)
-Gained a boyfriend who wanted to get hitched
-Went to India, where I:
*Drove a scooter
*Stood up from backbend
*Lost my lunch (and dinner)
-Gained a new kitchen
-Lost my Reader calendar gig (2/3 of my income)
-Lost the boyfriend
-Watched the bf hook up immediately with a mutual acquaintance
-Saw not one but two therapists
-Co-wrote a sit-com
-Acted as the lead in said sit-com
-Nearly lost the cat to a pecker problem
-Crashed my bike (five stitches, one broken tooth)
-Crashed the computer (data saved) and started backing up
-Lost a stepmother (who remarried)
-Saw not one but two finanical planners
-Learned that I have kind, honest, loyal, giving, amazing, loyal, irreplacable friends who "get me" .... and that strangers ain't that bad, either.
That said, I've been getting rid of stuff ever since I returned from India -- which seems like an eternity ago but was really just at the end of March -- and that includes old New Yorkers, most of which are wrinkled from being read in the bath (I read from back to front, in case you're wondering). I managed to toss out a riveting profile of the writer Alice Munro that I started reading at the chiro but never finished... but did get to Zadie (White Teeth) Smith's short story "Hanwell in Hell," in which the narrator says,
"For my part, I had lost my livelihood and my house; I spent the spring of that year bewildered and outraged, almost unable to comprehend that I now lived in a gruesome basement flat in which lichen seemd to grow upon every damp surface."
That term "bewildered and outraged" really resonates. Well it did prior to today's epiphany about the friends, anyway. Apparently it takes a series of setbacks + unpleasant news (the vex spent thanksgiving at velma's parents' house.... after driving around the yoga studio the previous night, looking for me) + a migraine + numerous acts of giving (receiving, actually) before one realizes how lucky one really is. I have really been blessed when it comes to friends.
(Also today the headache was so bad that I left my messenger bag strapped to my bike when I went up to teach yoga. It was a rewarding class all around -- lots of people, good energy, plenty of tapas -- until I went to ring my Tibetan bell to awaken them from savasana and couldn't find my bag. I dashed downstairs to the parking meter as soon as I could... and the bag was just as I left it, bungeed to the bike. I nearly fell over with relief. Later at the Yoga Chicago holiday party I was seated across from 89 year old yoga teacher Becky Love, who's been teaching for 45 years, and kirtan wallah Debi Buzil, who has equally wonderful energy. Things are looking up, I think).