Ostara

Ostara: "A time of fertility and sacred balance between night and day... renewal. Flowers, eggs, and rabbits (all things that I love) are symbols of Ostara. It is a time of new beginnings and possibilities. Ostara is a time of deep gratitude. It is a time of celebration, as the light tips the balance and overtakes the night..."

I usually love this time of year. Everybody knows I love Spring.

And perhaps what I have encountered recently is all part of Spring and the cycle of life; of "light" revealing what was lurking in the darkness: When people aren’t who you thought they were. When words you believed in with pieces of your soul turn into well-calculated lies. When good things turn bad; and bad things turn around in ways that you never would have imagined could be so good (often seeming almost heavenly in warmth and kindness). When what you spent so long wishing for, hoping for and praying for becomes reality – but in all the wrong ways and for all the wrong reasons; and is suddenly so WRONG. Everything feels strange right now.

And Nothing I believed about a very large part of my life was reality.

I have discovered things that question my judgment and leave me confused. I wonder how I could genuinely believe that a person was good, only to find that I was entirely wrong. I thought I was much more perceptive.

So, in order to combat evil, I have been exceptionally nice to people this past week. I am trying to do the right thing and not to hurt anyone. I’ve been working harder trying to fix some problems at work and trying to help people who need me. I am thanking God often for what I have (including some wonderful people and several recently-sent angels) and what He has shown me. I'm weeding out people who aren't really my friends and trying to work harder at communicating with those who are. What else can you do?

Slapperella and the Romanian are always by my side; partners in crime and everything else. They are both depressed and weery from the drama: If something happens to one, it happens to all. It kind of goes without saying. Desert Dawg has been very supportive. She sleeps next to me and tries to protect me from all the bad things in my head. She instinctively seems to know when I’m about to cry and puts her little dog hands on my face. I honestly don’t know what I would do without her. Late night when everybody else goes away, she is always within reach.

I guess sometimes you just have to see what is going to happen next and let the tide take you. There just seems to be a whole lot of it all at once. Spring is the time for new beginnings and changes. I know who I am. I believe it must be part of a plan.

Little Messages from Dad

With the anniversary of my dad’s death quickly approaching on March 29th, I am thinking about him a lot. I am paying more attention to little signs to see if he is sending me any messages or to let me know that he is with me. I think so.

Some of the signs are less likely to be signs – like just thinking about him when I had to use my air pump that he gave me before I came to Kuwait “just incase your tires need filling”. That little air compressor was probably the best thing I brought with me from the States. I’ve used it often throughout the years. Like this morning when the tire was flat and none of the little “puncture stores” in my neighborhood were open.

This morning in the shower, I found myself singing a song that my dad liked. I hadn’t thought about that song for a long time and yet it was stuck in my head. I’ve often thought of that time right between asleep and awake as a time when you could more clearly receive messages.

This afternoon, I had a meeting this morning with a man who turned out to look very similar to my father. He even wore the same 70’s fashion of glasses frames that my dad did. It kind of freaked me out and I was finding it hard to look at the man. He probably thought that I am mental or had something wrong with my eyes.

I told my sister that I would move back to Virginia in March. I had it all figured out right after The Man and I parted ways, but even before that – I had been thinking about it when my Dad died and The Man wasn’t behaving as well as he could have/should have. I should probably go. It is harder all the time even to think about it. I know my dad always wanted me there and not here.

Warm and Fuzzy Emirati

In 1998, I had to go to Abu Dhabi on some bidness and one of the guys at the company I was visiting was incredibly kind and hospitable. I hadn’t met him before, but we corresponded via phone calls and e-mails and when we finally met - it was as if we had known each other for forever (isn’t it cool how that happens sometimes?). Abu Dhabi Dude is originally Saudi, but has close family in Kuwait. His company also has a branch here, so he has the potential to be around. When I got to AD and met him, I had to scrape my jaw off the floor – he was drop-dead gorgeous, tall (I’m talking REALLY tall – like 6’7”).

There was only one problem: He had just gotten married and he and his beautiful princess-looking-&-very-nice-wife were totally in love. They took me out to dinner, showed me around town and were just two very dear new friends. I asked him if he had any single brothers and moved on.

Flash to present day: I was supposed to go back to AD on business as I do every now and then and I decided to give the guy a call. I didn’t expect him to work for the same company. I didn’t expect him to have the same number. I did expect that he and Mrs. Abu Dhabi Dude were still married, had several children by now and would still be as happily in love. I was wrong on all counts.

When I initially got in touch with him, I sent him an SMS asking if he remembered me and saying that I would be in AD that night. He SMSed me back that he would be happy to see me, but he was still in Kuwait and would be leaving in a few hours. I thought that we were probably booked on the same flight (at 10). I called him just after my business trip was cancelled (that was weird). He said that he had missed his flight the night before and was leaving on a flight that was leaving at 8, but had a few hours and would I like to meet him and his uncle for coffee. How ironic. Could it be fate or kismet – or just the Universe phuckin with me somehow? If my trip hadn’t been cancelled, I would have missed seeing him (ok, but maybe I would have met up with him in AD – dunno).

So, I drove home and put on my Lucky VS Push Up Bra and some more war paint and went to meet them. He was still gorgeous, and it was pretty obvious that he thought the same of me. We had a really nice conversation with his uncle who is some big sheikh muckity-muck. It was like I knew him for forever too – and get this – I knew his brother in Washington way-back-when. I remember his brother because he was incredibly funny and made me giggle. It is funny how many people I knew in Washington that I never see here in Kuwait.

I drove AD Dude to the airport: a trip that was waaaay too short. He held my hand most of the way. We made plans to get together in a neutral country (happy sigh) later. His uncle invited me to Iraq, but I think I'll pass on that one.

I only saw him for a few hours, but I feel totally recharged today. Isn’t it weird that something like that can just happen and all of a sudden – you are transformed by happiness shining into your crappy week (month, in this case)?