Take a deep breath.
Say what you feel.
Walk away.
Ask for help if you need it.
I filed it away in my far too overcrowded brain, thinking it to be a wonderful way to teach kids the basics of good mental health. But it is one of those little tidbits of life that just won't go away. Kind of like a meditation stone in my pocket, I keep tossing this little mantra from hand to hand and allowing it to slowly work on me.
This morning I feel dangerously close to a grown up meltdown.
The deal on the house in Toledo fell through. Again. This latest offer was for cash. Less than we paid for it, but cash covers up a multitude of sin. And after having this thing on the market for more than three years, I was counting my blessings for the good fortune of getting it gone.
Hence the impending meltdown on my part.
Then, I remembered the mantra.
Take a deep breath. (I've patiently waited three years. What's a little longer?)
Say how you feel. (I'm angry. I'm impatient. I want out of that fucking house. I hate my no-good, lazy, never-returns-my-phone-calls realtor. I secretly pray every day that lightening will strike that house and burn it to a blackened crater in the ground. See? I'm not a very nice or good person after all, am I?)
Walk away. (Not sure how to actually do this one. Maybe I will make myself a spa weekend at home since I can't afford a real spa weekend since the FUCKING HOUSE DIDN'T SELL! Oh, wait. I was supposed to get all that feeling stuff done in the second step. Sorry. I'll try harder. Deep breath. Again.)
Ask for help if you need it. (The help I need is obviously getting over my anger and impatience. That doesn't come easily so here's what I tried.)
I cut myself a little bouquet of miniature Black Eyed Susans and put them on my desk at work. When I see them I'm supposed to take a deep breath and relax.
Only God can make flowers. Apparently only God can sell a big, brown house in the 'hood in Toledo as well.
Some things just can't be rushed.
2 comments:
Pray to St. Joseph. I know, I know,that's a Catholic thing and your father taught you that Catholics are evil. St. Joseph is the patron saint of carpenters so I guess that carries over to selling a house. Catholics buy little St. Joseph statues to bury in the yard of the house they want to sell. It works! Greg became a Catholic because of St. Joseph.
Actually I came for the transubstantiation but stayrd for the saints. So many fervent people for so long, they can't all be wrong I figures. But...we have an old small bakelite statue of St. Joseph that belonged to Grossmama, probably she brought it from Germany. It has worked three times. The last was Carrie's house; been on the market for a year, they had already moved into mom's house. We gave it to them but the ground was frozen. I went over to fix a light one day, we said a prayer and buried him in the front yard upside down and I went home. TEN MINUTES later a lady showed up on her own to look at the house and she eventually bought it. St. Joseph, the carpenter who was descendent of kings and head of our household.
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