Karma and Coincidence

It’s warm and wonderful here. Outside, flakes of white swirl in the summer breeze. They’re cotton, says Heather, from fields nearby, and they can get as thick as a blizzard on windy days. They remind me of snowflakes from a gentle winter storm, and flutter aimlessly as they search for their place to land. They coat the ground in corners and along the curbs in this little town. The grass at the park is speckled with them. In the evening, when the summer bugs emerge, the setting sun reflects off of the buzzing air like the dust kicked off a weary sofa in the living rooms where I grew up.
It’s hotter in the sun than I’m used to. In Florida, I hardly felt the sun. Instead, I felt the oppressive wetness of the air and the coating, stifling heat of mere existence. Here, the sun is present and sharp. You crisp beneath it quickly, and shiver in the shadows that you pass through, as though the heat has clear boundaries and refuses to be possessed in darker places. It’s cold inside Starbucks, too. We never touch the thermostat except in desperate situations, and it remains set for the hottest summer days. If you’re working, the chill is pleasant, as you can become overheated easily with all of the machines pumping out warm air. If you’re lounging in the café, as I often do, it becomes necessary to wear a sweater. My feet long for socks, and in the evening I often contemplate getting the blanket from the trunk of my car.
I went, today, while reading one of the many books that I gather from the local library, to sit on the rock wall just outside the store. I found a patch of sunlight and curled within it. Immediately I was warm and could feel that I might burn if I stayed for the duration of the novel. The patch of sunlight grew larger as the morning wore on, and soon I was entirely immersed in light. I would look up from the bright pages and find the rest of the world dimmed in comparison to the gleaming light at which, up until then, I had been staring. As I felt my neck become just too warm, I picked up my purse and moved to the shade where I stayed comfortable under the blanket of an unusually warm breeze. I thought to myself about how warm the rest of the day inevitably would be, with a breeze like that. Here in the mountains, the air speaks of what the future holds. You can smell the rain as it approaches, and all of the weather must climb over the mountains before it reaches our little valley, therefore providing us with visual notice of its impending arrival.
The nights are growing warmer now. It’s a blessing and a curse. Hopefully it will stay cool enough that I can sleep in some mornings. In the chilly nights I stay warm enough, except for the tip of my nose. If I cover my head with the blanket, my nose warms nicely, but so does the air that I inhale. I’m never comfortable when I have to breathe warm air. I’m not sure how I ever really survived the Florida summers. So, what eventually happens is, once my nose is warm, I uncover my face and breathe deeply the frosty night air. This inevitably leads to a cold nose. I end up spending the whole night covering and uncovering my face and never really getting any rest. When the nights are warm, I’m comfortable. I sleep peacefully, as I did last night. In the morning, however, usually at first light, warm nights turn to hot days and the sunlight beats down, warming my bed to those deadly temperatures we read about- associated with supermarket parking lots and small children or pets. I don’t mind waking with the sun, really. But if I’m to have any semblance of a social life here (which may or may not happen), it would be nice to be able to go to bed long after sundown with the promise of sleeping in to look forward to. Luckily, the parking structure right next to my store stays cool and quiet, and keeps my rats safe and comfortable. It also provides nice napping grounds for hot afternoons, or lazy days off.
I’m not writing today to talk about my sleeping habits, though. Today I’d like to talk about Karma and Coincidence.
While on my latest excursion, a two thousand mile round-trip road trip to my beloved San Diego, I met Dawn Mitschele. She is one of the beautiful and wonderful women who performs with Billy on various songs including ‘Mayhem is Beautiful,’ and his new single ‘Grace of Love’ from his new album, ‘The Man Who Invented the Sky,’ in which she sings the haunting chorus of “They are us/ We are them/ Love is ours/ In the End.”
I met her though Johnny at Twiggs, the coffee shop that I frequent whenever I’m in town. She and Johnny were going over some songs that she was going to perform at her friend’s wedding. When they were through, Johnny pulled up the chair beside me to play chess all afternoon with his friend Jim, like they do nearly every day at the close-knit corner coffee shop. We struck up a conversation about music and he asked why I was in town. I confessed I had driven in for the concert the following evening and he asked who I was here to see. When I mentioned Bushwalla (a name I’m used to no one recognizing), he was stunned. Bushwalla? He asked. You drove all the way here for Billy? He told me that the girl he was just practicing was Dawn from the song off the last album, ‘Mayhem is Beautiful.’ He told me he was in it as well, playing the background music. *I realized just now that his business card was in my purse, and I had intended to get in touch with him to do carvings for his impending wedding. My heart has broken all over again* Dawn came back to the shop, having forgotten something, and Johnny introduced us. I was beside myself at the chance to meet the two of them. That song is one of my favorites. Dawn is happy and sweet, and seemed excited to hear of my travels. When we parted ways I felt that I was in exactly the place I should be, doing exactly what I should be doing. Sometimes I’m not sure if I’m taking the right path in my life, but I took it as a sign that everything was the way it was meant to be.
Over the next couple of days, I ran in to Dawn often, and each time was more pleasant than the last. The time that gives rise to this blog, however, was the day of the show, while I was sitting outside of the venue. I had spent the morning at Twiggs, the early afternoon at the beach, and lunch at a tiny half-hidden café right by the ocean which sold only natural foods. I felt fresh and calm, and ready for a day of relaxation and anticipation. Dawn emerged from the theatre after sound check and was only slightly surprised to find me there. She mentioned later that night that I had become a staple in her daily life for the last two days. We chatted a bit about the day before and the day to come. She didn’t seem to understand why I would like nothing better than to spend the entire day outside the venue when I could be exploring. I tried to explain that it was part of the experience that I love so much. I like to be there long enough to become part of the scenery. I watch the people that walk by, oblivious to me and my adventure, and imagine their daily lives. I listen to the sound check inside and become almost unbearably excited for the show to come. I never get bored, instead, I revel in each moment that I sit with anticipation, knowing that after the show, I’d give almost anything to be outside waiting for it to start all over again. I mentioned that I had finished the book that I had brought to occupy myself, and she insisted on lending me the one she keeps at the bottom of her purse, water stained and read on whims. I don’t remember what it was called, but I remember what I read. There were chapters called ‘Heart,’ ‘Relationships,’ and, most importantly, ‘Karma.’
I read it in passing. I didn’t really focus on it as I was trying to absorb all of the rest of the world. The chapter on Karma I found particularly interesting, however, and read from start to finish. I’m not a very spiritual person. I don’t have a religion. I don’t believe in a creator. I do believe, however, in the goodness of people, and I hold faith that everything in the world will right itself in the end, purely on the power of will and the variance of perception. If you can make the best of a bad situation, then you will live a happy life and everything will be alright in the end. What I believe is similar to the principles of Karma discussed in the book. The book takes it a step further that I do and takes into account reincarnation and the everlasting soul. It says that if you commit a transgression or wrong in your life, a parallel act will be committed toward you, to balance the Karma. It explains bad things happening to good people as transgressions those good people committed during a past life and have no memory of. It says that everything is balanced in this way. It also says that, if something happens to you, someone does something to hurt you, for example, and you get angry at them and wish them harm or punishment, really you’re just receiving what you deserve for a past incident (in this life or another) and by becoming angry and emitting negative will, you are just creating more bad Karma. The way to get around this, it says, is to try to understand what happened and why, and to forgive and love the person who hurt you. Only in this way, says the book, can the cycle be broken and balance be restored.
Now, as I already mentioned, I don’t exactly believe this; however, I do understand the principle behind it. It is the same message that Buddha, Jesus, and all those hippies were preaching: love, forgiveness, and peace. It was nice for me, sitting there in a peaceful environment, with all of my adventures past, and the exciting new adventures to come, to reaffirm my faith in goodness. I often think to myself, would a truly good person wish bad things on someone else. No. And, seeing as I would like to be as good of a person as I can, I can’t either. This counts toward everyone, including people who may hurt me in some way.
To clarify, this doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in punishment. I believe that if you hurt someone, you should be punished accordingly. If you do something wrong, you should be brought to justice. But I don’t see justice as ‘bad’ so I’m not contradicting myself. If a man robs a bank, for example, I think he should be imprisoned and fined accordingly. This is just. The people who were in the bank, who were taken advantage of and wronged, should seek that the thief should be caught and punished. Then, they should try to understand how insecure and desperate that person must have been. They should understand that now the transgressor is serving the punishment, and then try to forgive and love him. By love him, I don’t mean they should send gifts to the prison and welcome him back with open arms once his time is served. That’s ridiculous and foolish. I mean love him as if it had been a longtime friend who committed the crime. They should keep themselves distanced, don’t trust him or support his crime, but wish him relief from his insecurities or difficult lifestyle, wish him happier times and security, wish that he turns his life around and lives comfortably and without crime in the future. It may not actually help the criminal, but the victims will heal faster, and will know that they acted well: maturely and compassionately. By hating or wishing the criminal harm, all the victims are doing is hurting themselves and not letting themselves get over what happened. It’s in the past and all people can really do is forgive, love, and try to live their lives the best way they can.
Since my first trip to San Diego back in 2007, which feels like a lifetime ago, I have tried to live positively. I’m an optimistic person now, and I feel like I live the way I’ve always wanted to. I’m happy. When I got back to Denver after the 18 hour drive home, I was buzzing with excitement. The show had been fantastic. I took advantage of every opportunity that was presented to me (including hula-hooping for the first time since grade-school) and I made incredible new friends. I pranced around my Starbucks showing everyone the pictures of my new friends, my new adventures, and the men I had recently fallen in love with (there were a few… but then, there are always a few.) One of our regulars, Bernie, a nice and ever-smiling man with bright blue eyes that twinkle with joy, saw the photos and asked if I’d put them on the computer yet. You don’t want to lose all those memories, he said. I reassured him that I’d get them onto the computer and my Facebook within the next few days and that I would never want anything to happen to them. I put up a post on Facebook that night: I am so thankful for everything I have and everyone I know. You all give me so much... ♥ ♥ ♥ I love my life!
I always try to appreciate everything I have. I never want to look back and think that I took anything for granted. I’m able to look back now and say that I took nothing that was lost for granted, and I’m proud of that. What a coincidence, though, that just a day later, I would have the chance to prove all of these words and new ideas of thankfulness, forgiveness, and love.
The next morning was Monday and I had a shift at work. While I was there, one of my coworkers asked if I could cover part of their shift that night. Of course I agreed. I never pass up hours. The shift was from 5:30p-6:30p… only an hour of work. After my morning shift I took a nap in my car, then went back inside to work for an hour. I came back after my shift and my purse was gone. Someone had reached in through the cracked window, unlocked the doors, and taken my bag. At first I didn’t believe it. I went back inside to check the store, thinking that I may have taken it in with me and just not remembered. No. I went back to the car, checked everywhere… it was gone. I went back to the store, to the back room, and started to cry. My wallet was in there. My green card was in there. My money was in there. Then, oh no! My CAMERA was in there! My iPod was in there! My music and my pictures! They took my music and my pictures! Of all the things they could have taken, they HAD to take my music and my pictures. I was devastated. I felt used and violated, I felt empty, I felt alone…
I did everything that I was supposed to do. I cancelled my credit cards and debit cards, went to the police station and filed a report, contacted immigration to get a new green card, etc. I eventually wrote down a list of everything that was in the purse for the insurance company and it totaled nearly $1500 in value. Seeing that number made my stomach churn. If I had realized that I had so much value invested in that purse, there is no way I would have let it out of my sight for a minute, let alone an hour (an hour in which, might I add, I earned $9 at work). For a few days at work I was depressed and angry. I cried once to Heather, I’ve been homeless for two months. Two whole months! I said. And I’m further indebted to my parents and worse off than when I first got here! I felt so lost, for those few days; I didn’t feel like I’d ever be happy again.
But I stayed strong. Instead of falling into my former patterns of depression and self-pity, I fell back on my new-found optimism. The lyrics to the song ‘Better’ by Jason Mraz rang in my head and helped to calm my depression. The chapter from that book that Dawn lent to me the week before rang in my head and helped to calm my anger. I thought to myself, ‘It always gets better, I know it gets better. Now what I have to do is try to understand why that person took my purse. I have to forgive them. I have to try to love them.’ It was hard until I remembered that I’ve shoplifted before. When I was finishing High School and I was friends with Amanda, I was deep in depression and felt I had no worth. I hated myself and wanted to feel accepted any way I could. I did a lot that I’m not proud of, though I wouldn’t be who I am today without my past. A few times, while out together, Amanda and I would steal things: small things usually, rings, jewelry, key chains. Usually they were presents for one another or for friends. When I stopped hanging out with Amanda, right around the time when I found Jason Mraz and started to discover my own worth, I stopped doing things like that. So I used that to try to figure this situation out. I stole because it helped me to fit in, because I felt cool and accepted. I felt like I wouldn’t be those things without it. I can’t imagine how badly this person must feel about themselves to steal something so valuable right out of my car. Whether they did it to impress someone, or even for the money, they must be in a desperate and seemingly hopeless situation. Even if they seem happy, I’m sure they have no self-respect and that makes me sad for them. I still hope that they’re caught and they are judged for what they did, but I also hope that they find a better way of looking for themselves than theft. I hope that one day, they can be happy with who they are and what they have. I’m trying to love them, and send out my good thoughts for them and their future.
I’m thankful for my parents, who are always there to help me back onto my feet, and who I will repay with more than just money, in time.
I’m thankful for Heather, who was a wonderful shoulder to cry on. She’s a true friend.
I’m thankful for the safety of my rats, Lily and Violet. They were in the car when it was broken into and a more sadistic criminal may have taken advantage of their vulnerability.
I’m thankful for my phone and my laptop. My phone and charger, which normally would have been in my purse, were safely in my possession during all of this. My laptop was in the trunk of my car, a place where the thief, thankfully, didn’t look.
I’m thankful to Officer Mehnert for being so sympathetic and kind during our encounter.
I’m thankful that my possessions were covered under my parents’ homeowners insurance and I can use the money we’ll get to pay them back for all of their kindness.
I’m thankful for my health, my car (which was undamaged), and my AUX cable, which they didn’t take and which allows me to use my phone as an MP3 player in my car in lieu of my iPod
All of this I’m thankful for, and more… so much more.
I am so thankful for everything I have and everyone I know. You all give me so much... ♥ ♥ ♥ I love my life!