There have been some interesting moments in the past week. One that stands out is last night.
When I went home, I changed into workout clothes and did my custom EA Active workout as promised. When I exercise, and after some reasonable rest, my endorphins start to go nuts. “Hell yeah! We’re movin’! Let’s get some stuff done! WHOO!” So, while Kit went water-walking with J, I pulled my “white tornado” trick on the camping gear still stacked about our apartment.
I stacked the camp dishes in the dishwasher and got it started. I repacked the big gray bin, filling it as full as I could. I dumped the cooler and set it on the porch to air. I put away the sleeping bag. I started stacking things in the storage closet off the porch. I started putting the tent and pop-up walls that we don’t use into an camp backpack we had emptied before the trip, stuffing the soft things into the largest pocket.
The camp backpack – which has wheels – rolled, crashing into my right foot.
I wasn’t wearing shoes.
I dropped what I was doing and looked down. The largest toenail appeared to be cracked, and it was starting to bleed from underneath. (Turned out the nail had just bent backwards and broke the skin underneath. Nothing major, but the soreness does mean walking home for lunch today was off the cards. Shame, because it’s gorgeous today.)
Mindfulness, I heard Him say sternly.
I limped back into the house, got to the bathroom, ran some warm water, and submerged my foot while calling for my teenager to get a small towel. Ow ow ow. Dry off the foot, apply band-aid, limp around for a minute, finish the camping gear. Carefully.
Once done, I hopped into the shower (working out + hauling gear = yucky me). Partway through, He said, You need to take better care of My property. You should have been –
“I know what I should have been doing,” I interrupted Him crossly.
He said, You interrupted Me. I want your spine, but not this. The words came with the sensation of a heavy hand on my shoulder, and I cringed with the realization that I had been rude, and snapped at Him without cause.
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.”
It was just a few minutes later that I suddenly leaned my back against the wall. I could feel Him in front of me, His face close to mine, and His hands came up. His fingers lay around my neck, where His collar normally lies, and settled there, far heavier than His collar.
Usually such a motion – something too close to choking for me – would set me off. (I won’t normally wear turtlenecks or chokers for this reason.) But the usual panic fought with an odd thrill, and my struggle for breath wasn’t just fear.
Breathe, He said to me. He put no further pressure, was not hurting me in any way, just stood with His hands there. Breathe.
I fought to take a deep breath, whimpering. I could feel him so strongly…
Remember that you are My property now. Take care of My property. Be mindful. He reached up, touched my hair, cupped my cheek. Finish up now. Breathe.
I took one more breath as He retreated, turning back to the falling water.
His property. One day I’ll figure out what that means. For now, I take comfort in it, and nurse my owie toe as a reminder.