Wednesday, January 28, 2009

I believe in karma, and in old frog princes

I'm a firm believer in the Golden Rule, and in karma. This morning, everything just seemed to work out beautifully, as though the universe was rewarding me for the little things I'd been doing, but rewarding me all in one go at that.

A couple of days ago, I received a call from a third-year English student at UBC. She was fundraising for the university, and we had fallen into an extended conversation about my favourite professor, Dr. B.  It turned out that this student had Dr. B for two of her courses. There I was, waxing poetic about how brilliant Dr. B was, how I loved her class, her insight, her willingness to debate and to flesh out every detail of a character or a text. After talking to the young student for about fifteen minutes, I just had to make a donation. Although I have next to no income right now, I just had to. When I hung up, part of me felt that I had been suckered into something that I hadn't prepared for. Yet, another part of me was glad that my donation perhaps made the evening a little brighter for the young student. I could hear my former self in her. She was struggling with what to pursue after finishing up her English degree, and was contemplating going into Education and becoming a teacher. She was exactly where I was eight years ago, full of enthusiasm, not yet jaded by experience, with the world seemingly at her feet.

This morning, I opened up my e-mail inbox to discover that WestJet had awarded me a travel credit toward a future plane ticket because they had cancelled my flight over Christmas, leading me to have to wait for five hours in the Vancouver airport. This unexpected surprise more than compensated me for that donation that I thought I couldn't really afford. I hadn't even complained at the airline counter that day when I arrived to the news that my flight had been cancelled. I took it all in stride, when other customers were fuming and screaming at the ticket agent. I received a meal voucher that day, and managed to have a marvellous breakfast while I waited and started my new vacation novel. This proves that sometimes, it's not the dog that barks the loudest that gets the most treats. Kindness and positivity go a long way.

What's more, I received confirmation from both grad schools this morning that my applications were complete. This meant that Dr. S had managed to save me by writing another letter in Brazil and sending it to Edmonton; this meant that the documents that I had feared would never make it to Halifax had somehow managed to make it after all.

I found a gift today too. I was searching for some important documents that I needed, and was slightly disgruntled at having to move boxes around and dig for the papers (I have yet to unpack my boxes from Inuvik). In the same box as the one where my important files were was a poetry book that my friend E had sent me last May. She had serendipitously found the book during a foray in an antique shop, and had thought of me. While perusing the volume in a small coffee shop, she had written me a letter, detailing her thoughts, her humdrum happenings, and what was restless and at ease in her heart. This was the perfect day to have found this most cherished gift once more, to sit and contemplate, to savour some poetry, the words of a stranger and their connection with my own soul, and the words of a friend and their gentle influence.

A quote from E, from that beautiful letter: You will find your prince charming some day V. You know the old saying -- you just have to kiss a few frogs along the way. Last May, I was still reeling from heartbreak, and was not truly believing those words, not truly believing that there's such a thing as healing. Now, I can smile and appreciate that wise advice with a different sentiment. As I had mentioned in my last post, I'm not searching frantically anymore, and am not waiting desperately to be found anymore.

And E's words were in turn inspired by a poem, from page seventy-three of the volume by Marnie Duff that she had sent me. I love this enough to type it all below:

That Old Subtle Affair

I've forgotten the code words
we used to kiss into the receiver,
to catch that one moment, or this other,
for our later touch to recall.

Let's tuck this one away, too,
with the others, 'til some soft future
night, when forgotten words will recollect
our memories. New again.

Someday, my old Frog-Prince, I'll roll
this gold ball over the mossy lip
of your well. Our old game.
And you, my love, will dive for it.

There's snow on the ground still, after the gigantic snowfall over the holidays. And there was a small sprinkling of fresh crystals from yesterday. It is, indeed, a most perfect day. After the initial excitement from those e-mails this morning, I settled into a quiet, deep, peaceful calm. It is where I am now. I am grateful for this state, and for this day, and for not just believing, but knowing that the universe is in balance after all.

The photo below is of the snow that had accumulated earlier in the month, that had turned the world into a sepia wonderland:

1 comment:

  1. Bright spots like this time for you now are so wonderful to wander into along your way!