Spiritual Lessons Learned by Losing (and Finding) my Wedding Rings
You would think, having lost one of my gorgeous antique unique diamond platinum wedding rings out at our spot on the Cosumnes River, I would have learned my lesson but no. On another occasion, I go out to the river with a group of women (see previous column for observations about nudity, still true).
We swim, we talk, we eat a great feast. We clean up. We return home.
As I'm getting out of the car, I remember that I took off my wedding rings before swimming (while it was still vaguely light), I begin looking through every bag I have as I walk to my house, reassuring my concerned women friends with call over my shoulder that "all will be well."
I get to my house and finish inspecting every bag in the light--nothing. Now I'm starting to panic. I call one of the women whom I drove home with, she's still up, where is the table cloth from the table? It's plastic, she tells me, she through it way with all its detritus.
Where is the trash bag? She has already taken it back to the dumpster in our cohousing community.
I look at the clock, it's late, my husband and kids are long asleep. I grab a flashlight (this is before my obsession with headlamps, a piece for another post) and walk back to the dumpster.
Good news bad news when I get to it. The good news? it is completely obvious which bag is the one Amy has just dumped in. The bad news? it's the only bag, alone and the bottom of a full size dumpster.
I pull over a milk crate and reach down low attempting to fish out the bag. Can't get it. I use tools. Still no luck. So, no choice, It's a warm night, with some moon and the alcohol from the evening hasn't completely worn off my bravado. I hoist myself INTO the dumpster.
I look through the bag painstakingly, hopefully. I find nothing. Disappointed, I move to get out of the dumpster. I discover that there's nothing to stand on except a small bag of garbage.
It isn't enough. I discover that I have virtually no upper body strength and cannot hoist myself out of the dumpster, gravity is no help here.
It's 2am and I'm trapped in a dumpster.
I consider yelling for help but I don't want to wake anyone up, but I sure as hell don't want to spend the rest of the night in the dumpster. When I'm under stress of any kind, I eat. I briefly consider the pie pan with remnants that I found when looking through the bag. I discard that thought--I might need the pie more at about 6am.
The floor is gross so I can't sit on it. I have to stand while I think. Periodically, I try to get a toehold on some side of the dumpster or to pull myself up. No luck.
I look at my watch again, it's 2:30am. I've been in the dumpster for half an hour. Time is passing very slowly. I want a shower, bed and clean pie.
The thought of a shower and clean pie somehow gives me a creative impulse and I realize that I have not been fully utilizing the garbage bag. My memory is foggy but there was a breakthrough of some kind and before you know it, I've found a way out of the dumpster.
Hallelujah! I am free. I come home, take my shower and get in bed. I thank god for getting me out of the dumpster, even if the rings could not be found. In the morning, as I open my eyes, I see my wedding rings on the bedside table next to my head.
Spiritual lessons learned: Before I go to drastic lengths to find something, make darn sure it's lost.
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