How Many Times?

I hope this doesn't come off as too macabre.

But, I'm wondering how many times I had to die, before everything could be set in place, "just so", for me to live? Maybe I'm taking myself a bit too seriously but it occurred to me today just how lucky I am, to be alive right now and not knocking on death's door.

As I was walking to and around Greenlake today I reflected on a conversation I had with my former "chatty neighbor", Loren, who reminded me that my return to health has been rather miraculous. After all, it was only August 1st, less than 2 months ago, that I was so weak and panicked that I took the drastic move to drive to the desert to clear the toxins out of my body and save my own life. I could hardly walk 20 feet, let alone up a flight of stairs without gasping for breath. I had giant rings under my eyes. I was coughing up phlegm at an alarming rate and each cough left me weaker and weaker.

Was someone watching over me and correcting events, in the cosmic timeline, so I could live? I mean, had I not lost both jobs and had Gino not entered my life, I would have been a goner. I worked every single day in my apartment. My toxic mold-infested apartment.

The letter I wrote to Coast to Coast, as I explained my situation and frustration to my co-workers just poured out of me like automatic writing. It felt like it had been dictated. Likewise, the letter I first wrote to Gino, after I rediscovered his music felt channeled - I'll never forget the urgent voice inside of my head, telling me to let him know I got his song played on 525 radio stations. The Coast letter got me fired and the Gino letter lead to communication with him and several amazing experiences that gave me a strong desire to live. The raw emotion I felt that day, at Metro Traffic, when I bawled my eyes out and frightened my co-worker just happened. I wasn't planning on it. Just BAM! But, had I not been fired from Metro, I would still have stuck around my old place. I would have had enough money to pay my rent and continue living in the basement of the damned.

And, yes, my unemployment is currently "on hold", but thank God that it was not cut off while I was driving 4000 miles in the desert trying to heal myself. That deprivation did not happen until I was staying with my sister and had a roof over my head.

Maybe bit-by-bit, the pieces had to connect together, just so, in order to keep me alive. If just one of those elements had been out of place, I would not be here today.

As someone who has cheated death twice, now in 2 and a half years, it gives me great pause. I think about the strong voice inside that told me to go see a doctor, instead of visiting my sister Linda in Florida that January morning of 2008. That lead to my open heart surgery and aortic valve replacement.

It is obvious to me my work on Planet Earth is not yet complete. Daily anxieties and insecurities aside, I have returned to a relatively normal existence.

From now on, I am not going to dwell on losing my jobs, home and possessions. I am going to focus on being alive.

Remind me of that tomorrow when I start wondering what the hell happened to me. OK?