Sometimes the Universe

Sometimes the Universe brings us strange new things. Or takes us back to some place we needed to pick up where we left off some long time ago. For me, increasingly there’s this weird spot in 1994 I keep reconnecting with. I think I was supposed to go through door number 2 and I went through door number 3 so now and again I guess I get back to the foyer of the doors and now have the privilege of walking into the others and finding out whether they were black holes, closets, or true paths.

We are responsible of course, for ourselves, but we often allow people to guide us astray. But there is that notion of living without regret, and I want to keep that up to. OMG what the heck is she talking about today?

Yesterday was an important moment where one door closed, padlocked, forever and one door opened. I think my 1994 self left a note for me there. The note says: Remember you wanted to do this, and this , and this , and learn about this? Well now that you’ve slayed the dragon, you can go do those things now. You can learn what you need to learn. There’s no one stopping you. 

Friday morning I woke up with this odd sensation. I didn’t know if it was sickness or a sign, but gradually I figured out that somewhere across the universe, my name was mentioned whether out loud or in someone’s head.  And I found out why. Now I know why. 

It’s a very strange thing to have been wronged and not to have really seen it coming. To have thought one was so much on another plane as to not need the creature habits of humans. The habit of safety. The habit of honesty. The habit of family and friends.

We do need those things to live authentically. 

But of course we need ourselves. Our real selves. 

I once had a twin. But my twin is lost, searching in the insecurities of the suburban void. I thought we’d covered that territory, walked those miles long ago, but maybe we didn’t. Maybe I did and my twin was asleep so he has to walk that empty path now.

Sometimes the Universe tells you when something has died. Sometimes it points your chin to rebirth.  And sometimes on a Sunday afternoon the sun shines through your mountain forest windows into your living room and you will be just fine.

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About margaretelysiagarcia

Margaret Elysia Garcia primarily writes fiction, essays and poetry from a remote corner of the Sierra Nevada. She's currently working on a non-fiction book about plus-sized modeling. She's also searching for a publisher for her new collection of stories? Mary of the Chance Encounters. Her short story collection Sad Girls & Other Stories out now on Solstice Literary Press. She blogs here and at Throwing Chanclas and Girl Body Pride. Is a contributor to Hip Mama Magazine. She writes the zine The Adventures of Sad Girl with her daughter, Paloma. She’s a three-time director of the national Listen to Your Mother Show in Plumas County (www.listentoyourmothershow.com). She has an alternative women’s music show Milkshake & Honey on Plumas Community Radio (www.kqny919.org).
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