A Change of Plans



I had my whole weekend planned out.  I was going to go through the downstairs closet and put aside any items that we (my family) didn’t use or didn’t even know we owned.  I wanted to clear out my room and go through my clothes. Get a big pile together for a swap meet  run…and if I had time, I wanted to start tackling the garage a little bit, or maybe another kitchen closet.

All my plans to clean were actualized, just not what I planned to clean, and not for whom I planned to clean it for.

I received a call from a close friend on Saturday afternoon in need of help.  He said he would pay me, so I hopped in my car and drove to the country.  He was trying to finish up a job he was working on for the last week and needed help sweeping and moping and moving furniture back in the house once the floors were sealed and dry.

Apparently the woman who lived in the house last had 50 pet rats she let run freely throughout the house and they did a bit of damage to the walls, ceilings, floorboards, air-ducts and their feces could be found all over the place.

When I showed up a week after he started the job, you would not have been able to tell.  He did such an amazing job for the time, tools and finances that were available to him.  I was impressed to say the least.

So, there I was, blasting Sheryl Crow’s Greatest Hits, sweeping and moping and wiping down the walls…and I realized something:

I was right where I needed to be that weekend.  I planned to clean, and by-golly I was.  I wanted to help others, and there again, I was totally helping my friend.  If I didn’t show up, I don’t think he would have been able to get any sleep that night, and the job would not have been finished.  Not to mention the fact that I made some cash which always helps…especially right now.

On top of helping my friend that day, I went with my family to walk the streets of Compton as part of their Church’s Mission to help Human Trafficking victims.  Now, I am not exceptionally religious, I believe all religions have their place in society to heal the spiritually sick, however, the love and strength and compassion I felt from those 50 or so people gave me chills.

Where there is love, fear can no longer exist.  It is like a fire suffocating from lack of oxygen.  And with all the love on Long Beach Blvd that night, fear had no place to breathe and grow and fester.

I gave one of my new favorite little pocket-sized books to a dear friend that night.  “The Heart of the Buddha”.  I brought it with me because I felt strongly that I needed to.  And sure enough, she was having a moment of doubt and fear…the feeling a person gets when they feel like they are just a little person tackling a giant of a problem.  I pulled out that book, instructed her to do a little “stichomancy” (bible dipping) and she realized her power and her compassion and her love would take care of any uncertainty she was feeling at the moment.  Peace came over her, and she had a smile on her face the rest of the night.

At the end of the evening, I knew what I needed to do:  I gave her a hug, told her she was amazing and I love her, and that the book was hers.  I could see the appreciation in her eyes when she told me she would cherish it.

I knew she would.

The next day I got a text message from another dear friend of mine.  She had picked me up two more copies of my favorite little book.

The Universe has a funny way of showing me I am on the right path…even in my own moments of self-doubt and impatience.

When all was said and done, I still got my laundry done, cleaned up my room a bit, and went through some of my clothes.  The closet will be sorted.  And my swap meet session will happen.

The more important thing here is that I didn’t let a little thing like “plans” get in the way of life.



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