I'm stuck. Rather, my car is. Thanks to a late-night snowplow that closed off my driveway with one long, large, heavy, hard, unshovelable iceberg, I can't back out of my driveway. And thanks to frozen ice, I can't pull my car forward any farther in.
First gear, reverse, I turn the wheels this way and that, gunning it. Nada. Just spinning wheels. I shout expletives. LOUDLY. I get out, stomp around the car, unable to determine why I can't go forward. The wheels are totally clear, goddammit. But it doesn't matter what I see, or that I don't understand why, the undeniable fact is that I'm stuck.
My favorite neighbors aren't home. I'm not desperate enough to ask my least-favorite neighbors — the ones I suspect are meth addicts. So I hoof it to the corner store to rustle up some manpower. The third man approached is my man.
Slowly but surely, he pushes and directs my steering until I have traction and then suddenly I'm on the street. Victory! I thank him profusely, realizing later I should have bought whatever he'd stopped at the store for. I still feel guilty for not thinking about this soon enough.
Sitting in my noon AA meeting, relaxing at the deepest levels of my being, basking in Spirit, it hit me. This is what I do; in fact, this is exactly what I did earlier this week. I got stuck. I asked for help. And when I followed the directions of a spiritual mentor (my AA sponsor), almost immediately I got unstuck and experienced the inner freedom and serenity I have come to need and to rely on, as solid and steady as the ground beneath my feet.
The rest of the day has gone swimmingly! It always amazes me, but never surprises me anymore, how when I take care of myself spiritually, everything else falls into place. I hear the same thing time and again from others.
Now I'm about to leave for Eastern Washington University for the Gonzaga women's basketball game. My Dad turned 69 today. Happy Birthday, Big G! I picked up sandwiches from Domini's, which we'll eat together before the game.
I'm grateful for the simple things. A warm home. My family. Silas the Dobie. Friends. Helpful neighbors shootin' the shit over snow shovels. My AA peeps. Basketball. Awareness. Awakeness. Aliveness. How it all begins and ends with God.