A touch of background:
A. I have a history of putting things in places and then forgetting where those places are.
B. I have a consistent track record of finding things. I can't say I always do, but I swear like 99.9% of the time, I DO find things. (You can even read THIS BLOG about another time I "lost" a key)
C. I got a Tesla and I ❤️ it more than I ever thought I could ❤️ a vehicle. Seriously. I never understood how people could just be soooo into their cars. And now I'm obsessed.
D. Among all the AMAAAAAAZING features, the key happens to be adorable - a tiny model of the real thing.
Now that we have those important items addressed, let me tell you a little story:
Last Wednesday, when my daughter and I got home, the key pad was dead. Key pads are awesome keyless entry systems...but not when they don't work. No back-up key, and no other way to get into the house. Within twenty minutes, calls were made and a locksmith was gearing up to head our way. While we waited, we picked up Pei Wei and hung out in the back yard with all the stuff from our day. The locksmith comes, works his magic AND makes back-up, real keys for the door (hooray!).
My daughter and I go about our business for the rest of the evening, grateful that the hic-up was quickly and easefully taken care of. As I'm saying goodnight to her that night, she mentions that her ballet clothes need to be washed for class the next day. They happen to be in the car. No problem. Until I realize that the car is locked. And I can't find that adorable little key.
I know that I find things, I know this. My reality is that I have a consistent track record of not finding things and then, well, finding them. I could list for you at least a dozen such times I've both lost something and later found it.
I know that I find things, I know this.
I take a deep breath as I begin to look in all of the usual culprit places: the little jar by the door where I usually put the key; the pocket of my backpack; the counter... I even fish my jeans out of the laundry basket and check the pockets. No Key.
I say to myself, "It's okay, Rachie, you find things. You will find this key, too."
Search Mission Level Two
I begin to retrace my steps and look in all the places I was in between having the key and not having it. I look in the carport, on the ground. I scan the ground between the carport and the back yard. I check the grass, rocks and the crevices on the patio furniture. No key. I scan the ground between the patio area and the door back into the house. No key.
And then I remember a teensy, tiny, itty-bitty little detail: When we were done eating our take-out, I put all of our trash in the Pei Wei bag to throw directly in the trash bin, located in the alley. And then...on my way to said alley...well, I saw dog poop in the yard, so I super skillfully picked it up and added it to the bag of take-out trash. I tied it nice and tightly and threw it in the bottom of the large bin.
As I'm remembering this, I am certain that the adorable little Tesla key is in the bottom of that bag, under all the trash and {dog poo} and in the bottom of the garbage bin.
It is dark - too dark to venture into the alley; too dark to finagle the bag out of the bin; too dark to sift through trash and poo. I go so far as to confirm that the trash isn't being collected the next morning and I move on to address how to get my daughter's ballet clothes into the wash. Because they are still in the car.
To recap...
I need the key to get in the car to get her clothes. I can't find the key. I've looked everywhere and logically deduce that the key is in the bag, in the trash bin. I won't try to retrieve it until the morning, but in the mean time, I remember the handy-dandy Tesla app (which is like a super secret society). I have not really used this app, but I seem to remember someone telling me I can unlock the car with it (hence it needing to be like a super secret society). I go to the app, push the "unlock"icon and sure enough, it unlocks! I realize that I can even drive the car without the actual key fob!
I am reassured that we will indeed be able to continue on with our lives. Death is no longer eminent, due to this minor key misplacement ordeal. I get my daughter's clothes, re-lock the car and go to sleep feeling so proud of how I've navigated this previously-panic-inducing situation.
Death will no longer be eminent, due to this minor key misplacement ordeal.
I wake up refreshed the following morning and gather up my dogs as my side-kicks for the trash retrieval leg of the key finding mission. I fish the bag out of the bin, and do the dirty work of sifting through the contents. Do you know what I found? Not the key.
Seriously.
I am mystified. I really, really thought it would be in there. Like I was 99.999999% certain that was where it was.
Nope.
Feeling slightly deflated, back to square one, and so clueless about the key, I walk back to the house. Suddenly it dawns on me that the sensation of deflation has dissolved; I realize that I am Not. Worried. At. All.
I decide to move forward and get ready for the day. As I go into the closet to select an outfit, I suddenly remember that I had hung my jeans from the day before on a hook - I hadn't put them in the laundry basket yet. Very casually I take them off the hook and check the right pocket. And there, cozy and safe, is the ever adorable Tesla key.
Being in the Story
Take a look back over what you've read so far. Do you notice how much time I spent in my story of the missing key? Even though I had this knowing that I find things, I was still in a sneaky hustle to find the key and resolve the issue. I carried the weight of what felt lost for over 8 hours. Even with the affirmation that "I find things," there was a part of me that was afraid that this time I wouldn't. That part used to be MUCH louder, but even though she is a little more tame, she is still there. And I still fall into the hustle, afraid that what I know to be true may not actually be. Afraid that I can't actually trust myself the way I sometimes think I can and always want to.
My friends, our stories are complicated: lots of ins and outs and details, background bits and "he said" or "she said," agreeing and disagreeing and...you get the picture. There is always something more to say about it to prove something. To prove that you really are good enough, you really did try hard, he really was mean, your behavior really is justified, you really are the victim, she really doesn't get you - there are a zillion things we try to prove when we are in our story.
When we are in the story, we can feel buzzy, busy, confused, very angry, endlessly sad, bewildered, and so much more that takes us out of the present moment and our center.
But our truth? That, my friends, is simple. It is inarguable. Regardless of what anyone else says or thinks, or doesn't say or doesn't think. It just is. Your truth is simple.
It feels peaceful, calm, present and open. No illusion. Just reality.
When you Exercise Your Soul, you develop your awareness of when you are in your story. As you develop that awareness, you also develop awareness of when you are in your truth. It is through creating space to witness our experience that we are actually able to have a different experience. And that is where we realize the freedom that has been ours the whole time.
What story do you notice you are in these days?
What is your truth?
How are you being invited to Exercise Your Soul?
I would LOVE to hear from you.
You can reach me at rachel@exerciseyoursoul.org.
Rachel Sartori is an Embodiment and Wholeness Coach. She is kick-ass and heart-centered whether she is showing up as a workshop/retreat facilitator, a private coach, a writer or a speaker. Rachel invites you to exercise your soul, and participate in the healing of your own heart and the world around you. With Rachel, all is welcome, all the time.
Read: Exercise Your Soul: Ignite Healing and Wholeness in your Life and Live from the Inside Out
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