Screwdrivers & Pantyhose

Chapter One: Questions

          After reading “The Why Café” by John P. Strelecky, I found myself musing over personalized variations of the three main questions of his masterpiece:

·         Why am I here?

·         Do I fear death?

·         Am I fulfilled?

I could not silence the questions as they resonated deep within my psyche moving me to mull over them again and again and again. I went to the store to purchase some items that I needed for my pantry. I drank a couple shots of Espolon Tequila Blanco left in my freezer by a coworker after my graduation party. The silence never came.

          Next, I tried to silence their inquiry by watching a fantastic film that brought me to tears, made me shout at the television in resolution, and pray for my ability to aid our planet in finding a brighter day. “Tears of the Sun” with Bruce Willis moved me deeply and still as it was finished I found myself fighting to evade the strength of these questions.

·         Why am I here?

·         Do I fear death?

·         Am I fulfilled?

So many people have heard my stories and suggested that I sit down and commit to writing a book, yet the time never seemed correct until now. I believe it only appropriate to begin with the story that led to the title of this collection of thoughts, “Screwdrivers and Pantyhose”.

          I must admit that I lead an enchanted life. I experience so many serendipitous happenings every day that I find never enough time to tell the tale of them all. I am grateful for the blessing of my life. One sunshine filled Sunday I was waiting tables on the bay and this particularly trying “Lemony snicket series” began to unravel my spiritual composure. For those of you who have not seen “Lemony Snicket’s A Series of Unfortunate Events” with Jim Carey and Meryl Streep, I recommend it highly. Since my introduction to the movie, I have lovingly adopted the phrase “lemony snicket” to express a negative or strange series of unfolding events.

          As any spiritual being would, I intend to remain centered and evolve through my daily existence accordingly. Sometimes, I falter. This series of events was particularly trying. As any waiter knows, rhythm is of the utmost importance to offering excellent service to guests. If your kitchen, your bartender, your food runner, your hostess, your management, your busser or any other intricate part of the mechanism falters, you must adjust your pace in order to continue to offer the type of service that allows for happy guests and excellent tips. Should you be short staffed and working to fulfill the energy another employee would have satisfied things can become even more trying.

          Standing in the middle of our patio, sun reflecting off the water, forever the promise of the arrival of dolphins, chaos began to unfold his wings. I cringed. I know myself. I am very strong, but I allow anxiety to over-ride my strength far too often. I become the ugliest part of myself, and I don’t like me! It seems that no matter how many times I promise not to allow this to happen, I still find myself far from spiritual center, caustic and angry, and feeling guilty for not portraying the best of me.

          As my lemony snicket series arrived at its culmination, I was at the height of my “dark side”. I was ready to bite my customers head off for something as simple as asking for hot sauce. I was ashamed of myself. She reached for her purse and opened it to procure some item or another. I didn’t mean to be nosey but inside I saw a couple screwdrivers and several plastic bubble containers with pantyhose inside. I couldn’t contain my laughter. I had failed the test but the universe was already painting my forgiveness across the sky. She looked up at me to see the origination of my laughter. I said I had never imagined a purse would contain screwdrivers and pantyhose, and she must have had “some night” last night. She was thankfully laughing with me and furthered our mischief by withdrawing the screwdrivers from the purse and tapping them together. I asked her if I could hold them. She was confounded but allowed it. I tapped them together, and said, “Dorothy, I just wanted to make sure we were still in Kansas.” After which I handed them back and she gave me a bubble filled with pantyhose. I put them in my apron not sure how to take this message from the Universe except that it was definitely time to lighten up and laugh at myself.

          In a world filled with poverty & war, hunger & disease, murder & rape, it is often hard to imagine what difference one soul can make. The fact remains, one soul can. It is upon this foundation that I begin the answering of the three questions that refuse to leave me alone.