Who’s Your Daddy? Mine’s Poseidon [With Audio]

“Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy.
Most of the important things in the world have been accomplished by people who have kept on trying when there seemed to be no help at all.”
– Dale Carnegie

I had about one hour until I had to be back at the store to let Homi go pick up her kids from school.
She would open the place up and work until two, a few days a week, giving me some time.
Time to run errands, pick frames, go to the bank, look for new merchandise, and worry.

By that point, late 2009, I was a professional worrier.

“They” say if you do something for ten thousand hours, that qualifies you as a master.
I can attest to that. I had mastered the art of worry, which is using your imagination to create things you DON’T want.
I was so brilliant at it, that an avalanche of unwanted shit was beginning to suffocate me.

The store was underwater financially and I was drowning. 

But life goes on, and we were having some friends over that night for a pot luck dinner in the backyard. I had used my morning to shop for food, buy candles, straighten up the place and get myself organized enough to come home at six and entertain.

I wasn’t in the mood to act happy, but I was going to fake it until I could make it.

Just as long as nobody asked me about the store, because if they did I was so tender and close to tears, the floodgates could open, run my mascara, and ruin a good time.
‘I’ll just change the subject, that’s what I’ll do’ I told myself.
That would be my version of self preservation.

We all agree that when we ask someone how they’re doing – we don’t REALLY want to know, right?

Things had gone faster than expected that morning, smoothly even, so I put the vacuum away, grabbed a handful of nuts that I’d put in a bowl for that night, and decided to lay down on the bed in the guest room. I was so deeply exhausted, I had one hour to regroup and maybe actually sleep instead of think.
When I laid my head down, I stated to relax.
Maybe because it was light outside, I could feel my face unclench, my hands open and my stomach unknot itself.
Darkness is worry’s ally, they double team you, and take you down. A daytime nap feels friendly, comforting almost.

I always say a mantra when I lay down. I can’t help it, I’ve done it for so many years it’s a habit. I’m not even sure if I can lay down without doing it.

That afternoon as exhaustion overtook me, I started repeating over and over, 
I SURRENDER
I SURRENDER
I SURRENDER
‘I can’t do this anymore, I give it to you, God, take it from me.’
I SURRENDER
‘I’m tired, and I give up.’
I pictured throwing my hands up over my head with great resignation.
‘I give up.‘
I SURRENDER.

We had our dinner party that night, it was relaxed and really nice.
Because people were over, I put my phone on silent, thew it in my purse and stowed my purse inside the closet; so I never heard it ring or all the texts coming in from midnight on – and there were MANY.

That night just before twelve, a giant water line broke on Coldwater Canyon and somehow filled my store with four and a half feet of water, changing THAT situation forever.
Blissfully unaware, for the first time in months, I slept like a baby.
Be careful what you pray for…..

A couple of days later….
My intuition had delivered a directive: go talk to my beautiful friend, whose also a counselor, Diana, have her help me process the turn of events, and have her do a meditation with me. In the meditation she guided me to a place of my choosing, to meet with someone with more wisdom than myself, someone who could give me a little insight, because I was in a quandary.

What do I do NOW?

We sat cross legged on the floor, across from each other, knees touching, eyes closed, as she guided me to a special place.
I saw myself in white robes in a kind of amphitheater, with tiers of stone seating. It felt like Ancient Greece to me. I was a great orator, and this place felt like home.

“Do you see anyone there with you?” Diana asked.
I didn’t.
“We called in someone wise, someone high above you, to help; they should be there.”
Finally, I saw a male figure approaching, he didn’t feel like any big deal to me, although Diana kept insisting he was.
“We called in someone very wise, very high up, that’s who he is.”
“Nope. He’s no big deal, we’re the same.” I continued to tell her.
“Janet, stop it, ask him to help you. What does he have to say?”
When I did that he came into focus.
Tears began to roll down my cheeks.
I had a hard time speaking, I was so overcome with emotion.
“Oh…..I’m kneeling down before him now, he has his hand on my head….. he’s my father?”
I was sobbing now.
“Not my dad – my father. Diana, he has a trident?
Oh…..He’s raising my chin to look him in the eyes….”
He looked at me with so much love and understanding.
“My daughter” he said, “I heard your prayer.
You may move Heaven and Earth, but I MOVE WATER.”

I can’t remember who said it first, but both Diana and myself said softly, “Poseidon”
Then I started to half laugh, half cry, while we both sat there wrapping our brains around what had just happened.

Great.

Does insurance cover Poseidon inspired flooding?

What do I tell Raphael? ‘Hey babe, you’re never gonna believe this, but Poseidon is my daddy and he took out the store because I prayed for help.’

Remember that parable from the other day about the man and the flood?
The answer to your prayers may not always look how you expect.

Love, Poseidon’s daughter,
Xox

for your listening pleasure 😉
https://soundcloud.com/jbertolus/whos-your-daddy-mines-poseidon