My life has the hiccups these days. I don’t know why. But many, many little things are not proceeding smoothly as planned. Sometimes, the cosmos arranges itself so that a few really big things go nutso in my life, but recently, for the past three weeks or more, a cascade of little things has been burping, hiccupping, glitching, and crashing down around my ears.
While none of these little things seem to be related, it feels like they are all related to some vibe in the ethers. It feels like the universe is giddily tossing bolts into the gears of my life.
First and foremost, my bank quit speaking to my online money manager. Finances have been a very weak part of my skill set for my whole life, so I was thrilled when programs began to show up on my computer that could help me keep a handle on my money and where it was going. Suddenly, that security is gone. Mess with my money, and I start to go crazy…
Yikes! My fingers have been clicking on the keyboard furiously, searching for help so that I can once again know that my financial world is in order. So far, the bank remains mute and the “let us help you” reply emails have proven unhelpful.
Also in the techno world, many of my online payment accounts have been telling me I can’t log in anymore. “Invalid Password or Username. “ ‘Scuse me? I’ve been using that name and password for a year—what happened?
My email account informed me that it did not want to let me in because of “suspicious activity.” Just kicked me right out. So I called Apple and said, “Is something going on funny with my computer?” Nope. All’s supposedly well in the guts of my Mac.
I hurry to Staples to purchase new money manager software for my computer. Quicken, maybe? “Sorry, but your computer is too old to work with this new software, “ I’m told.
My mind starts running away with me. Is it sunspots? Is China hacking my machine? Is the whole Internet going crazy and taking me with it? Or are all these glitches only happening to me?
Now the hiccups in my technical world have spread to infect my sourdough starter. I’ve had nothing but raging success making bread the last couple of months, and suddenly, I take something from the oven yesterday that looks like a cast-iron pot lid (see photo).
My self watches myself begin to morph into paranoia. How silly, says my Big Mind to my Little Pissy Mind. Just let it go like water off a duck’s back.
Shut up, says my Pissy mind to my Big Mind.
My Big Mind grabs hold of my body and sends me off into the forest in the midst of a cold, wet drizzle. The dogs are so happy to come along! Mazel shoves sticks into my hand to throw for him, and Hannah dashes off across the ridges to chase squirrels who saw her coming and are long gone. Darter, the cat, follows along, yowling loudly because she’s getting her toes wet. My feet slip on soggy leaves, and I stop to watch Carter bend over to pick up a small fossil of some ancient worm.
For that time in the forest, sanity is restored to my soul. When we return from the forest, we return wet and refreshed and baptized, and I cut a piece of bread from my pot-lid loaf. It tastes pretty good, actually.
I hear a soft rustling from behind me, and turn to face Cookie, who has discovered the cat litter box. Her happy face tells me how grand a morning she has had, drenching herself in damp cat urine.
And so it goes…