Adventures in turning off the big fan

"Turn off the big fan outside, would you?"
He asked.  He was my colleague and mentor at work, and I had gotten into the habit of writing him when I got home because at least  someone cared that I had arrived safely.  My husband seldom noticed.
I didn't decide to take the adventure, so much as the adventure chose me.

Adventure is a kind way to put it.

A few days later, inklings came, which made me suspect that everything I knew and came to accept as true weren't, and that my greatest nightmare had come real.
And I decided to go and turn off the fan.

My solid backing, family who helped me erect my building of brick and stone, I stepped out of the safe confines of my house and jumped.  

The wind was intense, I watched my husband blow away, my adopted sister and nephews next, her boyfriend, an old friend of mine, blowing past, beyond where I could reach them.

I was in a wind tunnel.  I started grabbing wildly for familiarity, my sons next, I got a hold of them, but could not hang on, my heart broke, and I stumbled.

Cat saw me and threw a rope, I grabbed on, still trying to grab my boys, my mom, still trying to stand against the wind, mentor with cleats dug in, standing behind me, trying to hold me up, he blew away.

My eyes hurt from the dirt in the wind, tears fell.

In the swirling noise of the void, days faded into one another, more crazy random things blew my way.  I grew tired.

George came up behind me and showed me how to cinch the rope around my waist.  He showed me how to brace for the gusts and how to breathe in the madness without allowing it to consume me.  I tried to lean heavily on him, and he allowed himself to be blown away, "That's not the point of the exercise, Dee.  You can't change it, so embrace it."

I sat clinging to the rope for dear life.

But then, the fatigue set it, the horrible, horrible fatigue that sets in after holding a rope for 6 months.  And free time, and the want to write.

I simply let go of the rope, I could not hold on anymore.

I landed on my feet, "thunk, thunk" the pain in my knees astounding.  I sat on the cool earth, opened my eyes and found myself in the hookah lounge, computer in front of me, novel nearly written.

A chat open with a man named Steven, and the wind had all but stopped.

Just when I thought the whole thing was a dream, George came up to check on me with a smile on his face while rolling a cigarette.

Cat came after that, and John (her then boyfriend), and the other hookah bar staff, I had made friends somehow... and a few days later Steven and I went on our first date.

These days, the wind gusts, but doesn't carry me away.  I hold Steven's hand, we shoulder each others burdens.  My friends are in a v shape behind me, always ready to catch me.  They were at the bottom of the ravine the whole time, waiting.  Family, waiting.  

And to the wind, I say thank you for your gifts.

To the abyss, I say thank you for catching my family and friends.

And to the beyond, I thank you for your bliss.