I have often said my life has been like a Forrest Gump movie. I'd like to amend that statement: it has been more like Slum-dog Millionaire. I have lead an unusually charmed life full of incredible experiences. What makes them so incredible has often been the impossible sequence of coincidences.
Within the Cauldron of memory there are departments. One of those departments contains memories that "mean something." I may not know what or why at the time, but they register as significant, and I hold them in a separate area.
Then things like Iraq happen. And finding myself in absolutely absurd circumstances they suddenly become relevant, significant and lifesaving. Because of some seemingly random bit, I am the only one who knows what to do, acting without hesitation. Small significant things in my life were "preparation" for "Who wants to be a survivor?" The result has been described as a miracle. I call it Magic.
Events like these, prompt the question of a Grand Design: does everything actually happen according to some divine plan? Or are we just looking for a pattern to feel more secure about our place in the universe?
I have always believed that things do happen for a reason, or at least they happen to me for a reason. Even the bad, in fact the worst things that even happened changed my life for the best. While in Iraq, my (ex) wife developed a several drug habits and several relationships which resulted in her getting pregnant and attempting suicide.
That was my Hero's Welcome, a red cross massage about a pregnant, drug addicted wife. When I walked in the door, there were three men in my home. One was in the bedroom. Things were about the change.
So I divorced her, got custody of my children, got out of the Army and start over. Went home to help run the family business and met her the day I rode into town. We have been together ever since. She is the most amazing women I have ever met, I didn't even know women like her existed. She is the best thing that ever happen to me and I almost lost her at five o'clock this morning.
She gave a client a ride to work in the early morning rain, and on her way home someone ran a red and caved in the drivers side door. She walked away a little sore, but unharmed. She came home and we both cried. The reality of life's frailty can do that from time to time. But out of the tears came laughter: well my sachets worked!
We travel a lot; I make weekly trips to prisons and state hospitals, weekend trips to the national forest and we make monthly trips to friends, family and lots of rock concerts. So she made protection sachets for every vehicle to keep us safe (and make me wear my seat belt).
My wife has never opened a door for herself in my presence since the day we met, and she never will. you'd be amazed how much attention this can draw, apparently its a bit unusual. Every once in a while I like to ham it up for the audience and bow "your chariot ma'lady..."
We had spent the last few day talking about getting a new chariot, and she spent Friday window shopping hybrids. I told her she didn't need to do this, I was already planning on buying her a new one. Laughter is the best medicine.
We talked about the Grand Design. It wasn't bad Karma, or a the third fold of some spell, shit happens (for a reason). We don't always see the bigger picture, especially when Dryghtyn throws overhand. It's been my experience that we're usually looking to closely to see the bigger picture. But I know there is one, I've seen.
Thank you Lord and Lady for the Chariot, sorry about the dent.