Every morning, for a long time now I’ve sent Goddess an email. She asked me to do that, and I’ve done it for the most part. Of course, life gets in the way some times. Along the way I’ve grown used to checking my inbox like a little kid unwrapping presents. Religiously, I check my email for anything from her. We usually snap back and forth throughout the day, not all the time, but more often than not.
For me, that constant communication and feedback loop has felt very comfortable. She doesn’t always reply to emails right away. If she’s busy, she waits. Understandable.
She hasn’t responded to an email I’ve sent her for 10 days. Even while she was on vacation during the holidays she responded to mails. Don’t get me wrong, Goddess is always right. In fact, I’m aware of some good reasons not to respond to mails right now.
This is about how I feel and not what she’s doing (or not doing), if that makes sense.
Ice cream trucks
Do you remember ice cream trucks? When I was young these little trucks would drive around the neighborhood in the summer selling icecream from the street. The music they played could be heard for several blocks. I’d be sitting outside with my brother on a hot August day, intently listening for that noise. The truck didn’t come every day, but it was often enough we still waited for it.
Not a week would go by without the truck enjoining us to relax in the summer heat with some chocolate eclair bars.
As I got older it seemed like the truck came less and less often. I still remember the first year we never saw it the whole year. It was kind of traumatic for us as children. We’d grown so used to that icon of summer the lack of it felt like the world was falling apart. I remember my brother wanted to call the police lol. He thought something happened to the driver. He had this whole elaborate idea worked out that the local icecream shop had kidnapped the ice cream truck man. Of course, I thought it was aliens.
The problem wasn’t really the truck was missing. It was fear, uncertainty, and doubt about why was the truck missing. So we rationalized it away, as best children could. Obviously, the driver had been kidnapped or aliens had stolen the ice cream.