And I have tied them correctly, as in, how my father has been coaching me, "right over left Rachel, right over left" -- a perfect square knot bow in the laces of my knock-off Keds.
This memory sat in my mind for years and years as the memory of, "when I learned the tie my shoes." It is probably the first memory I can access after other important stages in life such as "first learned to talk," and "first learned to walk" --
In August of 2009 I quit my job. I had a mortgage, two dogs, a cat and a car that was in dire need of new tires and a tune up, but I quit my job around 11:30 one morning and drove south through Atlanta to my Newnan bungalow that I wasn't quite sure exactly how I was going to pay for at this point, but I didn't care. It was one of those "I'd rather lose everything than work here one more second" moments.
I started applying for jobs. Some that were similar to what I had been doing, but what I really wanted was a career change. I was so burned out on Social Work and Corporate America that I was ready to lose it all, go back to school and become a Librarian (still not a bad idea...minus the "lose it all" part of course).
Somewhere around the end of September of that year I cashed in all my mutual funds. At that point I was applying for jobs anywhere, everywhere--Georgia, Texas, Louisana, North Carolina, Tennessee, mountains, coast, desert...wherever. I was also drinking way more than I needed to and could have been diagnosed as depressed and self medicating. I had weaned myself off a few medications I had been taking because I knew my health insurance would end as soon as my ex-employer could get their grimy hands on the paperwork (and they did, and it did). I wasn't necessarily miserable, but I was definitely unhappy and getting increasingly worried that I might need to begin consulting the local homeless folks on exactly how to make it through winter on cardboard boxes and the occasional hand out. Yes I knew my family would never let it come to that...but it was a legitimate concern. And I still did not regret in the least my decision than got me there (still don't).
Three major things happened at the end of 2009 that changed my life. I am sure they have all been mentioned before on this blog, but I feel inclined to reminisce...
First, Robert, who'd had his fill of my increased unavailability and "rock star lifestyle" (being superficial bffs with a bar owner helps when you're poor and working diligently at developing a drinking problem) insisted that we take a vacation and he found and booked a pet friendly cabin in Hot Springs (see that story here).
Second, before that trip actually happened, I had a call for a phone interview with a company that I actually wasn't sure which application it matched. There were so many, and I still only vaugely remember filling out an online app at career builder and then thinking nothing more of it (after hundreds of resumes they all blur together). I was in Kroger when they called and I quickly asked if I could call them right back, zoomed home and did a little bit of research on the company (tried desperately, and to know avail, to find the application/resume I had sent them), called the lady back and did my very best at an impromptu interview (which I thought actually went okay but was so down on myself then that I had no expectations). A few days later I was happily contacted by the same company for an live interview that was scheduled for the Monday after our Hot Springs trip.
Mom rode with me to the interview. We had to leave VERY early because it was located at a retirement community on St. Simons Island, which is five hours from my house in Newnan. We had a great trip actually, and though I thought the interview was a bit awkward (the gentleman who would be my "boss" were I offered the position was at least 3 years younger than me and his maturity followed suit) I was uplifted at having actually scored an interview somewhere more appealing than the (very few) other leads.
The third event was that a week later (closing in on Christmas) I was driving to Target and got the call offering me a position and nearly matching my salary from my last job AND offering me 30 days free room and board in the community of Marsh's Edge while I found a place to live since I would be relocating.
I put my house on the market, spent a very Merry Christmas with my family (also the last Christmas we would spend with our wonderful Nana, the great Ruth Oalmann) and just before the end of the year I liquidated my 401K (the last of any "nest egg" I had).
By the end of January I found an apartment I could afford and with the help of my wonderful family and Robert, completed the final stages of officially moving to St. Simon's Island.
Somewhere around April or May (2010), another mysterious thing happened.
My aunt and uncle came to visit and they were staying at the islands landmark hotel The King and Prince. The first night they were in town I met them in the lobby. I parked my car along the curb and as I walked in I had an extremely strong sense of deja vu and couldn't quite place my finger on why. As we headed out to go to dinner, I suddenly remembered exactly what was firing off in the recesses of my memory. The cobblestone drive, the curb, the landscape.....I had learned to tie my shoes at the King and Prince when I was four. There is scientific meaning behind the "light bulb effect"...whatever synapse was harboring the chemicals of that memory finally exploded across to it's neighboring cells--a bolt of lightening that has made a solid connection from cloud to ground and spread thousands of tendrils of electricity and light into the atmosphere--illuminating the events surrounding that marker in my childhood history. We were on the island for some business thing my parents were looking into (or something like that). Dad had fussed at me that morning for accidentally walking in on him getting dressed in the bathroom and mom was probably busy with Stefan. I was being the typical kid "getting in the way" and felt as such, so I had very willingly been ushered by my [mom? grandparents?] to the curb where they were making a pile of our luggage. I kept quiet and busied myself with that little thing I had wanted so badly to accomplish for what seemed like years.
2011 It's Sunday morning in late September. I'm sitting on our screened porch with my cat Stella and a cup of coffee that I'm sure by now is cold. And I am considering, as I do often these days, all the forces of nature that brought me here, brought Rob here (where he happily works for SEA) and how the fabric of the universe is so majestically woven.
A quarter of a century ago I learned to tie my shoes about a mile from where we live now. It is more moving than I can find words to describe, to consider the symbolism in that moment and how the many years between then an now have led me back here, as a shoe lace loops back and forth through the eyes of a sneaker. And having been here for almost two years now, I feel like I am perhaps on the brink of yet another major marker in my life. I have no idea what it will be. I have hopes and dreams and five year plans. And, for the record, have not changed careers and actually see my possibilities in this field.
But beyond that I have something far deeper that has been growing inside me for as long as I can remember (it has always been there, though there have been times when I have failed to acknowledge it). It is constantly under construction and reinforcement but it's foundation is solid and it is a deep comfort to me. I have something that is important to the health and well being of everyone, regardless of religion or spirituality. I have Faith. I have faith that the forces of our unimaginably vast universe are intertwined and laced together in a brilliant, infinite quilt. And I have faith that no being in that expanse is too small to not be included in the pattern.
I am describing what myself and many people call God, though "God" has a different meaning and relationship that is unique to each of us throughout history. And in that sense this is God's production. There are possibilities everywhere, little projects that, though each may seem more important as we grow older, are just as significant as learning to tie your shoes.
