Waiting for Dunno (LynnK)

What’s going on these days? A convergence of Evil Forces? Mercury in Retrograde (whatever that means, but those who know say it’s really bad)? End-of-Summer Blues? Why is it so many of my friends–and most important, me!–are going through a dark spell?

Not a crisis, most of us. We’d probably rise to a major trial and handle it without complaint. OK, with complaint. But we would soldier on and do what must be done. Even me, although I never imagine I can handle a crisis. And yet, I have done so, and will again. Like water in an underground aquifer, strength lies clear and cool inside us, rising only when we most need it.

Meantime, there has lately been a nebulous sense of Great Doom hovering over us. Or maybe of Great Nuisance. Anyway, it’s there, dropping shards of trouble on our defenseless heads. And we keep expecting it to suddenly let loose with a barrage of meat-seeking missiles.

When troubles come, Hamlet said, they come not single spies, but in battalions. So when the first annoyance strikes, and the second, and lo, a third, we necessarily steel ourselves for an invasion. More importantly, we are possessed by a Really Bad Mood.

Some whine to family and friends. Rather like I’m doing tonight. Or trying to, because for the last few weeks I have been experiencing nearly every form of computer problem known to non-geeks. The ongoing saga of Lynn vs. Time Warner Cable (with Earthlink as my ally, or possibly a devious collaborator with the enemy) continues. Yesterday I was on the phone with one or the other, and on a conference call with them both, for several hours. Grrrrrr.

What’s more, I can’t make anything work on this new laptop. It’s pretty, yes. Sleek. Not yet infested with cat hair. And it whispers sweet nothings in my ear. Constantly.

"Windows has blocked some startup problems." Like I care? "Do you really want to open this program?" Well, yeah. That’s why I double-clicked on the icon. "Internet Explorer has experienced a problem and needs to close." Poor baby. While you’re closed, get your damn act together!

I also have a stack of incorrect bills to be contested. With Time Warner, of course. And AT&T, which thinks I owe them hundreds of dollars. Everyone knows I never call anyone. Really, I should give up phones altogether. I lost my favorite watch. The strap must have broken, and I never noticed its departure. The construction-crew trucks have started their incessant back-up beeping again. I dropped a can of black olives on my toesies.

Which is why I am feeling like Eeyore these days. Or like the tramps who try to entertain themselves while they wait endlessly for Godot. Something Bad is coming. Or, nothing Good is coming, which is nearly the same thing.

However, this too will pass. Lately, Sister Krissie has been quoting the 14th-Century mystic, Julian of Norwich, whose words have echoed down the years: "...all will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well." I think I’ll set those words to simple music for our traditional "Circle" at the next RWA Conference.

Meantime, even if all really will be well, there’s this one problem. For most of us, "well" means "we get what we want, and we don’t get beaten down by what we don’t want." Julian, though, was channeling words spoken to her during a visionary experience. And the Divine Force may define "well" in quite another way.

Julian wasn’t even her name, by the way. She was a Englishwoman who, at the age of 30, became ill and had her vision. A delusion, some might say. She later became a hermit, living in a cell attached to a church named St. Julian’s, which is as close to a name for her as we have. According to modern scholars, in her book, Showings, or Revelations of Divine Love, "she handles complex thoughts clearly and is rhetorically effective."

Which is more than I can say for myself tonight! But it’s nice to think that way back in the late 1300s, a woman wrote a book that still inspires us today. Here’s to you, Julian. Thanks.

Now I’m hoping I can get on line and successfully get this posted. If only so that I can wish for you, and for all of us, that all manner of things will truly be well.