One night, a number of weeks ago, I was just getting ready to head out to Starbucks to work on a comic that, in the previous couple days, had burst across my mind in an explosion of inspiration. That course of action changed, however, with a sudden, and particularly unkind, knocking. That alone was jarring enough since I almost never get unexpected guests, but added to that was a gruff and equally unkind voice calling my name through the door.
Hesitantly I opened the door and a man who looked as gruff as his voice asked, "Patrick Corrigan?" "Uh huh..." "You have a court summons. Someone has a lawsuit filed against you." Then tearing the top sheet of paper from his clipboard for himself, he handed me the balance of the papers and said as he walked away, "Have a nice day."
"...Thank you..."
Stunned, I retreated inside and slumped onto the couch. I looked blankly at the pages in my hand, my spinning brain trying to make sense of what had just happened. Someone was suing me? Who would possibly want to sue me?! ...Oh. ...Collections.
My medical bills have soared in the past couple years because of a pair of blood clots I'd somehow created. That situation has been resolved and I am no longer in extraordinary danger of another one, but still the financial residue lingers. I have been focusing on the main bills from the doctors and clinics, so some of the 'side' bills, like lab work, really have gotten shuffled to the side. Until now that is! Now it was at the forefront of my mind and I could feel old anxieties starting to creep up my spine and sit heavily on my shoulders. I began having flashbacks of the year that my ex-wife was going through cancer treatment (She fully recovered), and I was having multiple panic attacks a day because I was scared to death that I was going to go to jail because I wouldn't be able to pay the medical bills.
"Oh great! There's that fear again." Recognizing it and rationally countering the thought didn't do much to relieve it. The hamster was still diligently keeping the wheel of anxiety spinning in my head.
After spinning for awhile I realized I needed an outside perspective to anchor the proverbial snowball rolling out of control downhill through my mind, so I called my best friend. As usual she was able to help me feel better and gain a little bit of hope. The only thing was that she lives half way across the country from me, so once we hung up, though with elevated spirits, I was again alone.
Deciding that this was not a favorable condition at the time, I texted a couple nearby friends to see if I could come hang out there for awhile. They helped alleviate most of my fears and I calmed considerably when they finally convinced me I wasn't going to go to jail. Then one of them surprised me by offering to loan me the money. Wow! I suddenly had a way out!
I left feeling much restored, with a plan, or at least a worse-case-scenario, but there was still a background of anxiety about having to deal with the collection agency, whom everyone reminded me were souless, crazed animals just out for blood.
I slept in fits and starts that night. Though I no longer felt absolute doom toward the outcome of this adventure, I still had to walk through the rings of fire and communicate with those blood-crazed animals. I had my doubts about whether I was up to the task, and these doubts buzzed restlessly through my nerves, brain, and emotions all night.
I got up in time to call my day job to let them know I had something I had to take care of and that I'd be in later. Then I took advantage of that time to snooze for an hour after my restless night. Finally I mustered my energy, gathered all the pertinent papers and information, and with anxious heart prepared to make the call...
...Wait!
...What am I doing?
...This isn't the shamanic way of doing things.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Everything has a purpose. Everything is a gift. This is not an accident. And as a shaman, I must approach everything from the standpoint of wholeness, non-duality, spiritual depth. Everything I do must be toward healing. Everything I do is ceremony.
...Ceremony! I get up and bustle about gathering various shamanic tools and patching together a makeshift altar. I lay out a piece of deer leather upon which I light the candle that I use for shamanic work that sits on my reindeer candle holder. I also light a prayer candle with a sticker printed from one of my comics -- a drawing of a stained-glass style "Saint Davy (Crockett)" with the prayer, "Keep me always mindful that my life is an adventure."
With sacred space set, I sit down in front of the altar, close my eyes, and breathe. I consciously drop from the chaos of my mind into my heart. I acknowledge and say a prayer of blessing and gratitude for whomever I end up speaking to, opening my third eye to see the divinity and oneness of this as-of-yet unknown person. I take a couple more deep breaths... And I call.
I ended up speaking to a very pleasant and genuinely kind woman who listened patiently to my teary story as I just blubbered out my situation and my fears. If she were blood-hungry, she must have just eaten because there was no hostility from her whatsoever. In fact she was downright helpful and sympathetic. This was not the result everyone had predicted nor what I had previously been expecting. Through the entire call I had a mantra running through the back of my mind, "Thank you Goddess thank you Goddess thank you Goddess thank you Goddess thank you!"
When I hung up, I just collapsed back on the floor where I sat. "THANK YOU!!" I thanked all the spirits who'd been there to support me as I released them along with the sacred space I'd created. And I sighed. A big, deep inhale followed by a long, audible, exhale that left me peacefully empty of inner turmoil.
I accepted my friend's offer and paid off the debt, grateful for the experience and the revelations it had brought with it. I was also thankful for the deeper taste of compassion I now had for those who find themselves in such situations regularly. And stepping into the New Year, I keep myself mindful that my every step is ceremony, that spirits surround me awaiting the invitation to help, and that my life is an adventure.
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