By Gayle Plato

I stood in my yard, September, 2007, North Phoenix, AZ, next to our realtor, my husband, and looked down the street. The neighbors had just listed for 70,000 dollars less; I knew we were not going to sell with any equity.  At that moment reality hit me; every aspect of my life changed soon after. Box houses, built quickly, full of stainless steel, granite counters, and lots of star ratings: our neighborhood became a real estate subduction zone.  Our lives were plowing under the economic rubble next door.

Over a year later, my home sold for 199,999 dollars less than we listed that day. We were also the last of our neighbors to sell, not in foreclosure or bank auction.  I embrace change, and tend to stay positive. I’m the friend others lean on, ask for advice. Two years of implosion gave me a new level of humble awareness, and forced me to wake up.  The last day I spent cleaning that house before the close, I walked around for the last look-see. There was a loose sponge in the shower after scrubbing the night before, and I reached down, squeezing it like any would.  I knew better. Phoenix takes no prisoners when it comes to newbies learning to live in the desert. I’ve been here a long time, but in tired resignation of any value in the house, marital break up in play, and my foundation rocking, I just tried to get the hell outta there. But like the situation I was in, there was an unending sting.  A five-inch long scorpion, looking like a lobster, pinched onto my skin between the thumb and pointer finger and stung me at least three times in less than 30 seconds. My drooling lip, poison literally running up my arm, I thought I might be done for.  People don’t die from scorpion bites; it’s very rare.  But just my luck, I’d be the poor sucker. I sat there going totally numb, calling 911, a living nightmare, and all I could think of was my son. A true gift form God and the best thing that ever happened to me-my boy. What type of world is this I am leaving?

Twelve hours of pain, numbness: if you ever want to suffer, grab a scorpion! Nonetheless, it seems to have been a pivotal moment, and maybe the stings gave me clarity.  Most of my writing up until then was about educational or counseling issues. My political concerns were limited to an occasional candidate, right-to-life, or some isolated cause.  I followed it all but more as a teacher and saw government and economics as issues for the classroom.

But pain and suffering are strange gifts; we can receive insight and begin to truly value what we are given.  The lord giveth and he does taketh, but in what balance and to what end?  Are we just victim souls? Or the opposite, are we the warriors taking over with fantasies that we can control it all?  Political activism can cause one to feel frustrated as devotion to a cause does not instantly foster systemic change. Moving mountains is God’s job for a reason.

The truth is under the surface and we look through the cracks in the crust of our world. Tectonic plates of ideology break in a continental divide. The truth is that we are the hot molten energy flowing under the fault lines. Divisions of the ground release the pressure, and give the opportunity for growth.  The land shifts and new formations crop up. Yet all growth is violent and tumultuous by design. But after the pain of change, and the sadness of loss, the human spirit acts. I cannot take the way the world is devolving, the entropy of social and fiscal decay. My child matters and I refuse to accept the virtual reality show of self-centered, myopic life. Stings of reality motivate us all; we are not victims nor are we attack dogs. We organize and share in order to enlighten and educate.  Awareness is the first line of treatment. But all behavior modification takes lots of repetition and over-learning of a process. We must keep hitting the message. We must put on the pressure to crack the surface. We must remember the power of the numbers.  Repetition, organization, and unified voices rise up.

The world is changing, moving, but it’s a course of nature, not a wild swing to the left. Do not believe the hype nor buy into victim status. My stings are all earned for lots of reasons and I am not without blame. I grabbed the scorpion lying in wait and have the marks to prove it. My pain becomes a catalyst, knowledge and wisdom just a result of getting this far, right-side up. Catalysts stir, plates move, lands divide, and smart locals know how to read the signs.  As for me, I am looking at the lay of the land and remembering that my evolution is an earned process of hard work. No business or personal success happens overnight. The stings are always out there, but they only seem to get me when I resign to the divisiveness. Separate, but all things being equal, I am not divorced from reality.  I’ll take another rocky road less traveled and teach my son how to look for scorpions along the wild path. I show him how to trust himself when tempted by wrong-doing. His instincts of self-righting will correct missteps as the road rises to meet him.