Dear Universe, when I set the intention of blogging every day in January about my progress with my “worry book”, I meant progress in researching, planning and writing, not progress in my own ability to transcend worry, which, I have to say, is vastly improved on what it was and I am very happy with. I thought I would be blogging every day about interviews, notes, plans, word counts etc etc, which in fact I pretty much have up to now. Today, however, what I have to report is a big lesson in my own worry journey, which I already thought was quite full enough to provide material for my story!
It seems I was wrong. Last night, late last night, the Teenager was running a bath when one of those moments occurred. You know, one minute you think you are fully in control of everything around you, and the next minute everything has changed and you have to try and adjust to the new world order. “Mum, there’s something wrong with the tap”. Indeed there was. The cold tap would not turn off, and it wasn’t just a trickle, it was a torrent of cold water. Far too much to leave until the morning, which would be Saturday anyway.
So at midnight there I was, googling and yellow paging for 24 hour plumbers. One of the disadvantages of living in the back of beyond is that when you do find a 24 hour plumber they tend to be 30 miles away at least, and you have to go through the process of them checking to see if anyone can come out that far and saying no several times before you find one who can actually get to you that night. It was, therefore, about 1.30am before Stuart and Chris got to us this morning, all the way from Romford.
By this time I had calmed myself down, taken serious notice of the “trust” sign on my laptop, and enjoyed a couple of episodes of “In Treatment” on telly. I remembered to count my gratitudes and posted some of them on facebook, where I found some very sympathetic friends who were still awake, some because they didn’t feel well, and some because, well, whatever reason people are awake that late at night when they’re not waiting for an emergency plumber. A friend and I had recently had a conversation about how grateful we were for running water out of a tap in our homes so of course my first gratitude had to be “running water”. A bit of humour is always a good thing.
Stuart and Chris left some time after 2am, having removed the tap and sealed it off, promising to return the next day (today) with a new tap. Before I went to bed, I made a serious commitment to trust even more, especially where the house is concerned. My house is very old (700 years-odd) and therefore has all sorts of little eccentricities and is always in need of some TLC. At the moment we have some serious leaks and I am waiting to have some work done to remedy them, and keep the rain and damp out. There’s always something peeling, cracking or crumbling and it’s always on my mind. Up to now, I’ve concentrated on my big worries, my most pressing problems, and anything that looks like a crisis, and done really well at not allowing myself to obsess about these things. Now, I realised, I have reached another stage. I love my house and I do my best to look after it, but I don’t need to let it take me over. I can trust that I will have the means and the ability to take care of it whenever necessary. And the rest of the time, enjoy it!
Today, I’ve felt like a zombie all day, very short of sleep and with my plans awry because of waiting in this morning for Stuart and Chris to come back with the new tap. They duly did, fitted it really quickly, and also fitted a new stopcock because I had been unable to turn the old one last night to shut the water supply off. Of course all this cost an arm and a leg, not least because it was all out of working hours, so thank goodness for credit cards, but I have made super-good progress at not worrying about money and, after all, what’s the point of stressing about it – with a choice of either pay for the work or have Niagara Falls gushing out of your bath tap, you’ll always choose the former. The one constant theme throughout my zombie-like day has been trust and allowing myself to know that everything is unfolding exactly as it should, and that my house will be taken care of. I’ve spent a little time cutting out pictures of shower cubicles, a leather sofa and chair, and an American style fridge for a new vision board so I’m excited to see when they’ll turn up.
I really knew that I was on the right anti-worry track when Stuart told me a story. I’d gone with my gut instinct regarding the plumber to engage and it turns out I picked the right one. He told me he used to be in management, but didn’t like it. He said everyone went round being very stressed and serious and they couldn’t cope with his cheerful, laid-back attitude. They actually told him he ought to look more worried! He got out, bought a franchise and is now enjoying his work much more, although he’s vastly over qualified to be a plumber, he says. I think he made the right choice; I know in the past I have been told to smile less, which is bad enough, but actually to look more worried…incredible!
So there we are, 24 hours have added a new chapter to my worry story, which is beneficial to anyone who wants to share in it as well as to me, and my worry-bashing skills have reached a new level. I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep and waking up to still more freedom from worry, faith, trust and productivity! Thanks for the lesson and the progress, Universe!
