Wednesday, 10 October 2012

'Do you know the Way to 203a?'

A few details to bore you with, setting the scene.  In danger of repeating myself to peeps who have read my other blogs leading up to this point, my apologies for going over old ground, but for a complete picture:

I have taken to examining all unexpected social interactions. Every event, every sentence.  There are a few reasons for this, firstly, I am practising paying attention.  Not being in a little world of my own but actually trying to be fully present.  This is not as easy as it sounds.  When I am strolling along, thinking a million things whilst enjoying the music on my ipod.  That is a big bubble to break through.  However, I am also doing an Advanced Creative Writing Course which will involve writing dialogue and paying attention to the words people use and how we communicate with each other.  All very interesting and a worthy study.

So, as I turn the corner into my road, I pass the dry cleaners, the one where they helped with  my son's suit in time for my Graduation Ceremony, they took the trouser legs down so he didn't look as if he had completely outgrown his suit.  Nice people.  My mind vaguely throws a memory of the occasion to the front of my mind as I walk past, as well as mulling over my latest decision not to be a Sales Team Leader for Avon.  I have a feeling that the role is not for me.  I deserve a better job.  There, I have said it.  Working in a pyramid selling scheme is not good enough for me.  My talents are wasted.  Talents?  well, you know, my ability to entertain, enthrall, be FABULOUS. I need to utilise the creative part of my mind for something more worthwhile than increasing the income of my upline Managers.  Yes, I need to hold on to the idea that I can do something better.  

A lady is walking towards me, car keys in one hand, white envelope in the other. She is reading the address on the envelope.

'do you know where 203a is?'  she asks.  As if, somehow, my looking at the numbers on houses is going to be any more capable than hers.  Maybe it is. I have a look.  

she says 'there is 179 and then it goes 187...' she is talking about numbers that make perfect sense to me, the people who live there, the postman, everyone apparently apart from her.  I read out the numbers with her 
'189, 191, 193....' five houses down...it is upstairs from the dry cleaners.  I point it out to her.

She is very grateful, as if it has just appeared in front of her.  Out of the blue. As if by magic.  I resist the urge to say 'it's behind you' because it isn't quite panto season.  

I continue my journey home. Lifted by the experience of being the person who knows the way, knowing that I am helped by Spirit whenever I need a reminder of my spiritual path, I am asked for Directions.  I am reminded that I know the Way.  I silently thank Spirit for the upliftment and the experience.

Lots of love and light to everyone who needs it.

Tamasin x

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