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Yesterday morning my iPhone was stolen. At dawn. In Cape Canaveral. On my sacred private beach filled with, at the most, 50 retirees at one time jogging up and down the coast.
For two years I’ve had a daily ritual of seeing the sunrise, as well as leaving my belongings wherever I felt, within reason. I wouldn’t leave my laptop out, but I’d definitely walk away from my phone and my keys, which now I know better. So I was shocked and surprised when it happened. Surprised.. and pissed.. which is rare.
Anger wasn’t an emotion I allowed into my sphere. My natural inclination has always been to get sad or depressed about things instead of getting mad at them. I couldn’t touch my anger.. it felt like there was a wall blocking my ability to access that emotion within. Earlier this year at a workshop in Guatemala I did an emotional release exercise that allowed the expression of anger. I think that shifted things.. I remember feeling like a doorway had opened.
I felt my anger for the first time in my life and allowed it to be there. Well, actually, I tried to calm myself and recenter. My anger was vivid. It was fiery and inside my heart. The fire spoke, “I am going to change this.”
This is the other side of the coin from accepting what life presents us at all times, which I have been learning. Go slow, be mindful, wait for serendipity and move with the flow. But the reverse is also true. Where there is a will there’s a way.
I forget how badass I can be since I live a quiet hippie life and I am not often pushed into expressing my warrior’s courage. That, and in the new age community we often suppress these emotions. I’ve learned to not express that part of myself because of the terror I’ve seen in people’s eyes when I embody my Kali aspect. She may kill you with her gaze. And yes, that too is me. I am beginning to embrace this.
So the thief shut the phone off for the first few hours and I couldn’t track it. During which I took a shower, screamed (which was interesting), shared the news with a friend, did some yoga and cardio, and decided to get ready for my day. I had to do some grading and had planned to be super productive and prepare for my future excursion.
At the local café around 10am, I intuit to check Find my iPhone again. It’s on. OMG. I become a huntress. My focus gets sharp. It’s 20 min away in a run-down neighborhood by the bus station. Fair enough.
I call the Sherriff’s Office of Brevard County. I do this for a few reasons. One, I am on the hunt and I want to go in with muscle. Two, I’d briefly read an article, “What to do if your iPhone gets stolen” and it said, “Don’t go knocking on the person’s door without a police escort, that’s very dangerous.” Noted.
I have to be honest, though. I knew when I was calling it wasn’t going to amount to anything. The hippie aspect of my parents always told me, ‘Never trust the police.’ and that cops were useless. I have only needed them less than a handful of times in my life, thank God, but my sentiments are the same. They never seem to help.
Just as an aside, I do respect the integrity of people who want to right wrongs, bring justice, and save people from negative and harmful situations. I have deep respect for the souls who do this work. I have respect for the military and the men and women who serve. I’ve just never been helped by the police.
As the cop comes to the café, the phone is on the move, heading south. He tells me he can’t take me in his car, can’t chase down my phone, can’t go online to track it for me because he can’t even go on Pandora. He’s the only officer on duty in my city and he can’t leave the area. Other cities don’t have anything to do with it, so it’s no one’s problem.
Meanwhile, the phone makes its way back north on the same route. Is the phone riding the bus? Excellent. Come home to mama.
The cute couple from Alabama seated across from me are cheering me on. They are about to get on a cruise to the Bahamas.
I am fueled, at this point, with passion. The obstacle of calling the police and having nothing happen actually inspires more rage and determination. That, and the fact that the phone is heading back towards me.
This passion is the antithesis of what non-attachment is and the essence of what Buddha’s four noble truths dictate. But there is power here. This kind of passion needs to be respected and not, in every case, transcended.
All I can see is getting my freaken phone back. It’s right there. It’s mine. Give it. Hunt.
Though I am alone, I am non-negotiably going after it. I hit obstacle after obstacle along the way. Usually, when that happens I freak out and go home to re-center thinking if synchronicities aren’t happening and life isn’t opening door after door for me I am doing something wrong. Because I wasn’t yet in touch with my will. I wasn’t comfortable claiming something that was mine. Not in this case.
I try and get some friends to come with me, but no one has time. I ask for directions and a hotspot nearby and didn’t get help. My perspective shifts and I see our world in a new light. In what we call the ‘real world’ or consensus reality, everyone is out for themselves. Your problem is not their problem. No one puts themselves out to be of service. Now, I believe in self-responsibility and self-reliance, but in the world myself and other compassionate, conscious individuals are creating we connect from our hearts and we help each other. In Lak’ech. I am another you. And since you are me, we figure things out together. It’s a good awakening for the diversity I am going to meet on the road ahead.
So I find the bus station. No parking. I connect to Wi-Fi from my laptop in my car, (thank God it’s is everywhere). My phone seems to be walking down the street I am on.. but a bit behind me. I look, go too far, and make a U-turn. I park on the right side of the street.
Directly to my right, there’s a park bench with 5 or 6 middle-aged, African-American men who are now staring at me. I also see 3 women a few yards to their left, who are (ironically) passing a phone back and forth (not mine). My heart knows.
I think again about calling the police. Why? So they can do nothing and I can wait here? How do I know who has it? As I sit the iPhone on find my iPhone shuts off. No. I feel the anger again, the rage. I step out of the car, hopping over the wooden plank fence (wearing a sequenced Indian skirt) and walk over to the men. And you know what was interesting? I wasn’t scared. And I didn’t hate them. They were souls. I loved them. It was psychedelic.
I opened my mouth and spoke with love, “Someone stole my iPhone…” Immediately one of them said, “Is this it?” and held up my phone. I jumped for joy! OMG. I said, “Oh my God. I want to hug you but you stole my phone so..” They all started talking at once. “He didn’t steal it.”, “You should give me $10.”, “Someone else took it and he bought it from him.” Then two other men from outside the circle came up and vibrationally gave me the cue that my business was done. I followed that, thanked them and left.
I smiled, acknowledged the women respectfully as I passed, and got in my car with my phone. It was intact, had not been erased, and get this.. had a new screen protector! My old one was cracked. All they did was change the wallpaper and the screen protector on my phone. So all and all, I got an upgrade.
Talk about the cosmic giggle of the universe.
So now, I understand willfulness. I think this has been a long time coming. I understand rage and the beauty of anger. I see courage as rage of the heart. I value determination and a belief in one’s will. A character trait the universe has been urging me to embody.
Conviction can be just as powerful as miracles and waiting for divine synchronicity. Sometimes we have to decide what we want, have our own backs, and go after it. Trust within, and the world will acquiesce.
And I am a huntress.
Aho. Namaste. And so it is.
In love, light, and warrior spirit,