Breath and Stop: Turning Frustration into Clarity

My car was broken into last night. I walked out of my house this morning and saw glass on the ground, my glove compartment rifled through, and my visor pocket (with a few CDs and my insurance card) missing. This is the second time that my car had been broken into in front of my house since I moved to my neighborhood last October. Being mindful, present and all the other new-age things you’re suppose to do is hard when confronted with real-life annoyance.

Unlike last time, however, I got emotional. I felt angry. I felt violated. I even cried for the first time in a long time. But most of all, I felt unwilling to accept the seemingly randomness of this event. In my head, I insisted that this meant something. What was the universe trying to tell me? Had I slipped into non-abundant thinking? Had I slighted someone? Was this a sign that I needed to take some kind of action? What did it mean?

At first, I thought it meant that I needed to move. My personal information was now on the street (along with several CDs from the late 90′s). I called my landlord and told him that I might need to get out of my lease. My landlord (a really good guy, I must say), my cousin, and my friendly neighborhood “pharmacist” assured me that whoever broke into my car was probably an addict, and was not interested in stealing my identity or harming me personally. After reporting the incident to a female cop who did little to hid her amusement at my distress, I went back to the house.

I started breathing and thinking. And thinking. How likely am I to find another beautiful, newly renovated two-bedroom apartment within walking distance of work? My ability to attract things is good, but not that good. Should I get a home alarm system? Then I would need a home phone line. Should I get an alarm system for my car? But I rarely drive. In fact, I drive less than 30 miles a week, and it cost me in insurance premiums and break-ins.

I took another breath. Maybe I should sell my car? It would be nice to have the $140 a month I’m paying for insurance to myself, in addition to the money I’d make from the sell. Philly is a very walkable city, I have a bike, I get a discount for SEPTA through my gig. Why not?

I started to feel better. I’ve been trying to figure out ways to save money. Now, granted, this was a very harsh way for the Universe to get my attention, but it worked.

So I may get rid of my car. I may even start a series call “Car-less in Philly.” Who knows? I bet that supposed fiend who broke into my car didn’t realize he was a part of a larger plan to teach me something. But we all are. I just hope that your next reminder isn’t as costly or annoying as mine was.