Tuesday, 6 March 2012

So you've seen a miracle...?

Over the last few weeks I’ve really started to find an appreciation for miracles.  Why or how isn’t something I can describe, but nevertheless the idea remains tangible.  A miracle in my eyes is not some grand stroke of cosmic or divine intervention; however I can give you an example that may throw your assumptions.  One such example is a rather personal story that I can now only look back on with a sense of wonder and incredulity (mixed even still with a hint of scepticism). 

The summer of 2010 found me unhappily plugging away the daily grind at a large bookstore, for which I am dubiously ingratiated and grateful for.   This particular store (which shall remain unnamed for matters of discretion) was located in the Yonge and Eglinton area of Toronto.  I, myself, would (stupidly at the time) take 2 hours out of my day to commute there – one way!  The process involved 3 highways, a subway ride AND a bus ride.  (No, the miracle is not the fact that I kept my sanity…)  

On a particularly humid night, I was just getting off the subway around 11:30pm and was walking out to the parking garage of Yorkdale mall.  If you know the mall at all, then you will know that the entrance from the subway, into the mall is located right next to the security office, which on that night in particular was being manned by 3 mall security guards.  I had gotten into a fight with my lovely boyfriend that night for some reason or another (those details evade me now…but let’s just say that I wasn’t in the most rational of mind frames) and had told him repeatedly that NO, I didn’t want to see him and NO I didn’t want him to meet me at Yorkdale, and YES I am a big girl and I can take care of myself THANK YOU VERY MUCH…(yikes, even in hindsight, I sound like a bitch).  So fuelled with some malice and irrational anger, I rode the TTC in a huff and got off at the mall.  

I walked past the security desk, and as I’m walking towards the overpass that will take me into the parking structure, I notice two teenage boys walking towards me, the kind that for whatever reason, you know are not there to help you out.  I hear them talking to each other, nonchalantly at first, and then once they noticed me, a bit more quietly, and a bit more secretively.  It’s 11:30 at night, I’m alone, and I’m pissed off, so I think to myself, “Oh what the hell, I’m fine, nothing’s gonna happen….”  So stupidly I walk into the overpass and take myself up the stairs.  And then it hits me right in the gut.  Every woman out there knows that moment, that very instant where your internal alarm bells go off and intuition kicks in and you know that something’s wrong.  For me, this was the second I heard them follow me into the overpass and go quiet.  I think to myself, “shit, I’m about to get robbed”.   But yet, like an idiot, I keep walking, thinking it’s too late to turn around and go back to the security desk.  (PS it’s NEVER too late to turn around!)  I form an immediate plan, and my hand goes into my pocket, individual keys go between each of my fingers, and my adrenaline starts bumping.  I realize that there are more than two guys behind me now, that one held back and somehow materialized two more friends.  So I walk as decisively as I can across the overpass, and out into the parking garage.  “Why” I think to myself, “did I have to be such an asshole to him” is going through my mind at the same time as “where the fuck did I park my car!?”  I’m literally out the door and into the wide open, deserted parking lot and then I see him, across the garage, standing next to his car, looking at me.  I can hardly describe what I was feeling at that moment.  We connected eyes, and it was instant understanding, where he realized what was happening.  I’m not ashamed to admit that I pretty much ran to him.  The grimy thugs threw us dirty looks as they kept walking, and I hugged him so hard, while nearly on the verge of tears.  Never in my life had I had such an overwhelming sense of foreboding as in that moment…

I don’t really want to imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t shown up.  I would like to believe that I would have gone all Guyanese on their asses and beaten the shit out of them or at least shamed them into thinking better of it, but more likely than not I would have been over powered and mugged.  Or worse.   (I can’t really say that Yorkdale is as nice as it claims to be)

The miracle of course is that he showed up.  That for whatever reason, he decided to get out of bed at 11 at night, drive 10 minutes to the mall, and wait for me to get there.  A stranger sequence of events does not exist, especially considering the fact that I had just yelled at him on the phone and told him NOT to come.  The miracle is that I am one lucky idiot, and that somehow god, or whoever was looking out for me, and thankfully no one got hurt.  

So what is it that fuels these miraculous moments?  To be honest, I don’t know.  If you want, you could buy into the idea of the divine, the idea of karma or just the idea of dumb luck.  Or instead you could go to the source and ask my boyfriend yourself.  He would tell you that he was just raised properly, and that he was just looking out for my best interest and miracles are kind of moot because he should get credit where credit is due...  Damnit! I am an asshole!

Maybe the miracle is the fact that I never thought I would find someone as amazing as him, who would love me even in my highly irrational moments.  *Sigh* For me, there is no explanation justified enough that definitively answers my disbelief.  I just don’t get it.  And maybe I’m not supposed to…

So for now, I will continue to keep my eyes open and on the lookout for more miracles.  This particular incident only reinforced my belief that good can happen especially when your least expecting it, and isn't that the real kernel of truth found at the center of any miracle story?

(Oh and PS another miracle appeared before me when I found a WAY better, and WAY easier route to work...google maps is a miracle :) )