Shush. Don't tell anybody.
I left my loft, but my bed is still there. This is such a downtown story.
As all downtowners know - things just sort of show up when you need them. I believe it is a proven downtown karma fact.
You need a purple wine glass - your neighbor has one. A big painting to cover the peeling paint on the wall - an artist friend comes over with one. Six chairs for a dinner party - voila - they are there.
Stuff just shows up. I manifested all sorts of things in my loft. I never worried about it. I just knew - that I would be provided for with all sorts of WEIRD STUFF. And I was.
But what I didn't know was that I would be part of the cycle. The flow. The drama. The karma. Oh keep quiet Nancy, back to the story.
Well.....here's the short version of the long version.
As most of you know, I moved ALL MY STUFF out of my loft into a new loft downstairs because my landlord was moving back in. New place turned out to be toxic. I lasted 10 days. The management guy told me that every day MY STUFF stayed in the unit he'd charge me.
Panicked, scared, and tight on cash, I called my former landlord and screamed into my cell, "JULIO, JULIO, JULIO - I know you're planning to move into MY LOFT (the nerve, since it was his), but I need to move all my stuff back in. I promise I'll keep it there for only three days."
"Huh?" he said calmly. "I thought you had already moved out. Didn't I meet you for that?" "Yes, yes, yes, but I'm being poisoned and I've gotttttttttttt to get out of my new loft."
Knowing me for 16 months, a woman of her word, not a crazed maniac (even though I was acting pretty crazed), he said one word, "Okay."
Manna from the heavens. So, back I went, the way I came, and moved ALL MY STUFF back into the loft that I had moved out of 10 days earlier. I know, it's complicated. But it happened. Out, in, back in, out.
What a mess. Yada, yada, yada. And getting back to the short version - I got everything out in three days except my bed. My wonderful, comfy 15-year-old queen size bed. The one I wrote about in this post. The one in this picture.
And, why did I leave the bed? Because - A) I had no new place to move it to. B) I didn't have a car big enough to put it in. And....roll the drums, C) When I had met Julio right before I moved out (the first time) - he said with soul full eyes as he touched my bed - "Your bed seems soft and comfy. Did I tell you that I will be sleeping on an inflatable bed until I get my own bed?"
That was the clincher. The one that tugged at my old Pisces heart. The motive that really kept me from moving my bed (the second time).
So when Julio finally moved in, he called me and said, "I noticed you left your bed." Basically, it was like noticing an elephant in a shed. "Perhaps, I can buy it from you."
"No Julio - use it until I figure out where I'm moving to permanently. Right now, I'm sort of a gypsy."
It was then, that I realized that all this downtown "stuff just shows up" thing was really about paying it forward. To some one who needs it more than you.
That's Julio in the top picture playing his guitar on my bed in his loft. Who knows when I'll get it back. I don't care.
Because it's not about "my bed." It's about showing up when it matters.
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