My stomach hurts. I don’t process discomfort very well. It’s never been my cup of tea (as if it’s anyone’s). When I was a child my mother would say to my dad if he raised hell while we were eating, “Robert, remember Susanne’s stomach.” I should have remembered my stomach this evening.
There are thunderstorms in my life right now and I’m scared. I’m scared in the kind of way one might be if there were leaks in a building and no matter how much you run around, more leaks suddenly appear, in the ceilings, in the walls, in the foundation. This feeling is likely leftover from my childhood. There was a lot of uncertainty around money. My dad worked three jobs and then, when I was 10, my mom went to work full-time. It was a difficult time. Yes, when the foundation starts to crack I get scared.
When I was around 11, my dad was fired from his main job, a job he had held for a very long time. He loved that job with his whole heart. We all knew the people he worked with, and I went to work with him on Saturdays. My dad seemed important. I loved that everyone seemed to know him. Really, everywhere we went, someone would say, hey, you’re Bob Lee. This went on for years. But one day, everything changed. My mom and I were on a bus and for some reason my mom chose that moment to tell me my father had been let go. I let out a wail. I was blinded by tears. She must be mistaken. Who would fire my dad? Everyone knew him! Why would they do this? I also remember wondering, how are we going to eat?
When I was still a teenager and pregnant with my daughter, her dad was supposed to be looking for a job. Each day I would try to “help” him find a job, pointing out things that he might be suited for. Trying to encourage him, reminding him of bills that were coming or what it would cost to bring our daughter into the world. He never did go for those jobs and if he found work, before long he was unemployed again, or he drank away whatever money he had. I began to wonder, how are we going to eat. I even ended up losing weight during my eighth month of pregnancy and searched for ways to bring home food. Fortunately, the local clinic was worried too and sent me home with 20 lbs. of potatoes.
Fast forward to 2020, I’ve got financial fears. Truth be told, we’ve been living beyond our means and we’ve got to make some tough decisions. The money isn’t flowing, and it hasn’t for a while. The job I’ve had has never paid well, and there isn’t much promise of that changing. But we allowed ourselves to be seduced by its benefits. And now, I’ve got to put myself out there and find an opportunity to work in a place that’s pays me what I’m worth and allows me to utilize the full range of my skill set. Ageism is alive and well and I hope that doesn’t get in the way of my search the way it has for my 60+ year old husband, despite his impressive credentials, he’s been overlooked for jobs for several years. While I can and do affirm that I am in the Divine Flow and God is my true Source, and I certainly know we are nowhere near where I was when I was 19 and bringing home 20 lbs. of potatoes. However, I do believe the child in me is frightened, frightened of the thunderstorms and having to plug up the leaks, and as irrational as it is, wondering how are we going to eat?
If I know anything at all, I know that I have also landed on my feet dozens of times in my life. I also know that in each season of life, new lessons for living unfold. Perhaps all of this is an opportunity to put those old stories to rest and tap into that inner well of strength and choose how this script is going to go.
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