Assaulted by Gratitude

November 29, 2012 at 2:44 am (Living, Spiritual) (, , , , , , , , , )

I tend to be a pretty misanthropic person. I’m incredibly jaded when it comes to the sweetness of humanity, and in my work as a shaman and an ordeal worker, I tend to see the parts of people that don’t really emphasize their, uh, better qualities. I’ve also been through a lot of experiences, especially recently, that could easily make me give up on other humans and go live as a crazy cat gentleman somewhere in the midwest. I’ve been attacked, both physically and emotionally, just for daring to be true to myself and to express that to the world. I’ve had places I thought to be safe and accepting, turn out to be viper’s dens of backbiting and lack of consideration for those who are hurt or outcast by their thoughts and actions.

In short, life has given me every reason to sit on my front lawn and shake my cane at the youngin’s.

And yet.

Every day this week, there have been deliveries from Amazon. Today there were five packages in a neat little stack on my porch. I get updates from Rave about how generous my friends have been, individually and communally, in response to my request for aid. People have shown such kindness and willingness to be of assistance in ways I would never have dreamed. I think when Rave saw the initial numbers on WePay, she almost passed out.

I was struck with this feeling. It feels foreign to me, this odd sense of a weight being lifted off my chest, of feeling like things are going to be okay, even if just for a minute or two. That if I was every stranded at Tijuana at 3am, I could find someone who would pick my broken ass up and take me home. I was literally assaulted by gratitude.

I almost feel like there’s really no way to express this immense sense of connection, of thankfulness, of reassurance; if you’ve ever been through a divorce, you know that there is this very normal period of feeling like not only are you no longer loved by the person you thought loved you unconditionally, but as your friends all take a step back and try to figure out their own responses to what happened, you can feel kinda abandoned. I know this feeling well, as unfortunately this is the third time I’ve been in such a situation. (I’ve only been married twice, but in between I had a long term relationship that might as well been spousal, that also ended abruptly by me being dumped.)

It was hard for a while there. I honestly didn’t know who I could trust. I reached out to someone, just to talk, only to get a whip-fast response that they were not interested in hearing negative things about my spouse or his new poly family, and if that’s what I wanted I could take it elsewhere. I don’t know how to explain to them, or anyone else, that it’s basically impossible for me to discuss the separation without speaking my truth, and obviously that truth includes negative things about my spouse, because if there was nothing negative to say, the divorce would be a somewhat random event, no?

And so I circled the wagons. I only really spoke to those closest to me, the ones I knew had my back no matter what. I didn’t reach out much beyond this safe space. It didn’t help that the STBX was repeatedly telling me that we had shared friends who were telling him what an awful, terrible person I was and how wonderful it was he was rid of me. I had no idea who these “friends” were, so I couldn’t tempt fate by accidentally taking one of them into my trust.

I am also not one who easily asks for help. Ask Rave. I can be downright annoying, trying for ten minutes to do something she can do in less than one, but goddammit I want to do it for myself. Sometimes that’s important, and absolutely the right thing, but sometimes it can be almost ridiculous. Watch me try to propel my current wheelchair – it’s a great visual example – the one I have is not meant to be self-propelled at all. And yet, I will frequently bat her away and try to do it myself, only getting a few feet before I give in and let her push. I know this, and yet I keep doing it over and over again.

I didn’t want to ask. I was terrified of checking the website and seeing nothing. Proof that my deepest fears were true, that I didn’t have anyone I could count on beyond my tightest circle of family-of-choice. But I got to the place where I didn’t have a choice – there was just no way we could do the things we needed to do without help.

And the help, she poured in. Not only were we shocked by how much, but from whom. People I haven’t seen in person for years, sending gifts of love. People who have very little of their own, giving a portion of what they do have. Volunteers coming out of the woodwork to take on tasks or projects, like moving my piano so I don’t have to hire professionals, or finding a masseuse to donate a massage to me because it would help. People I don’t think I’ve ever had a real, significant, out-of-LARP-character conversation with. People I don’t even know their real names. People who have already done so much. People I haven’t ever met. People’s mothers and sisters and friends. People I’ve only corresponded with on the Internet. People who read my blog. People who heard about the situation from someone else and decided they wanted to help. People we don’t even know who, because the gifts came with no indication of their sender.

And it’s timely. I am holding onto this surge of love, of support, of caring, as I prepare for my surgery. I know not everyone can be there in person, but I consider every single person who has come to our aid to be there in spirit, one way or the other. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to march forward, face what the future holds.

There is still time. There is, unfortunately, still need. Although we have seen an outpouring that we never expected, we still have needs that have not been met. We need to locate a place to live, and have enough money to pay first/last/security. We still need lots of wound care supplies for when I come home. We still need a little more to help out our friends who want to come visit, and need gas money or airfare in order to do so. We, by no means, are asking for more than you can give, but maybe you can send out a message to your friends? A tweet, a status update, an email to those you know with an open heart?

But for now, I am grateful. More grateful than I thought possible. I’m sitting here wearing a shirt, pants, underwear that were all gifts. I smell of lotion that was a gift. I’m drinking tea that was a gift. I’m about to lay down and go to sleep with a pillow that was a gift. I am blessed. Everything I use or touch or see that came in because of our clarion call, is a reminder of that blessing.

And it drives me to get well as best I can, so I can get back into my community and do more good works. Help more people with their spiritual woes. Write more meaningful blog posts. Do more volunteer work. Do more to make my Gods happy, to fulfill my Purpose-with-a-big-P, to bring happiness and peace to everyone I touch, one way or the other.

I am blessed.

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2 Comments

  1. EVCelt said,

    This is great! I’m so happy that this is helping you and yours… I also think it says good things about our tribe-of-choice…

  2. allura said,

    While I am unable to contribute financially, I do keep you in my thoughts, especially as I deal with my own issues.

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