Last week I was apartment hunting in San Francisco.

I found this GREAT little apartment. Small, but cute. The true selling part was the gorgeous view off the private patio: Noe Valley hill dotted with charming, nestled homes, the rich hillside sparkling in the gloaming. I stepped onto the tiny little patio and my breath slipped away. And THIS would be my view every morning when I sat on the back deck to meditate and start the day. (Oh, and the property had a hot tub. HOT TUB!)

The woman subletting the place and I vibed: we had a really wonderful connection. She shared some excellent meditation and spirituality resources in the SF area, including where to find Sufi whirling dance classes. How cool is that?! She seemed very optimistic about letting me have the place - wanted to make sure I was free on Friday night to meet the building owners to make sure they liked me. Yay!

Well, I didn’t get the apartment. She called and with a sincerely mournful tone, explained that the woman who had seen the apartment first was actually a better fit because she wanted to stay for more than four months.

Arrrrgh!

The next day, Friday, I saw another apartment. I didn’t think it was possible to enjoy another apartment as much as the first one, but this one also had its unique charms: small but cute.

The owners had created a lovely courtyard with fat lemon trees and vivid purple flowers that spilled everywhere. A trickling fountain, mosaic table with breakfast chairs, and somehow the landlords managed to import fresh sunlight to this exact corner which glinted off a Greek bust who seemed to boast with his chin, “Check it out - real lemon trees.” This little courtyard would be the view from my living room. (Notice the way I took ownership.)

I filled out the application, produced my credit report, handed over my bank balance…I did everything I could to help sell myself to my new landlords, gushing over the apartment and how much I was looking forward to being in this neighborhood.

I didn’t get the apartment.

I was told that the true reason I was being turned down was that I seemed “too eager.” That is, the renters felt I would want to stay beyond the 4 scheduled months and since they wanted the apartment vacant after 4 months exactly, they weren’t willing to risk that I chose to stay.

The irony is, of course, that I have no intention of staying in San Francisco. I love the city - think it’s gorgeous. But I wouldn’t consider it a ‘home’ place for me. I promised to sign documents swearing that I’d move, I explained about having goddaughters in Minnesota who I need to see grow up…there was nothing I could do to convince them.

I discovered this second disappointment on Monday and by nightfall I was furious. And incredibly sad. I felt like I had just accidentally dropped my enthusiasm on the street and it was immediately scrunched by an enormous SUV (driver on cell phone).

After a few hours of feeling crushed, I had to ask myself, ‘What’s really going on?’

By now I could recognize that this was about more than an apartment.

I tried to get quiet and see what the feeling was - what did this situation tap? What did losing the two apartments say about me?

I’m not sure how it works for other seekers, but for me the process goes something like this:

Me: “What’s really going on?”

Me: “What’s going on is that you talk too damn much. Should have showed less enthusiasm.”

Me: “But what’s really going on?”

Me: “What’s really going on is that you talk too damn much. I just told you. You’re a big-mouthed idiot.”

Me: “Okay, sure. Thank you. And what’s really going on?”

(This continues for another half hour. And oh yes, there is name-calling.)

Eventually I get a little kinder, a little less judgmental. And maybe even recognize that I need to open up to someone else a little bit…a little vulnerability is needed. Through some serious pondering and a blessed conversation with Ann, I got the answer: I never get what I want.

When the simple clarity of these words popped out, I was shocked.

Of course that statement is not true. My life has been blessed like an algebra problem: blessedX + 3(blessed) x 7(blessed+blessed). But somehow that idea…that premise…is lurking in me and is a belief of mine: I never get what I want.

The result is that I see myself as a victim.

You see, Life owes me something and isn’t delivering, so I am justified in pouting on the couch with Season 6 of Gilmore Girls and a full package of swiss cheese slices. And then chocolate milk. And then some of those crunchy oat stick things, which really, is health food after all.

On the plane home from San Francisco, I was reading Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth and read this lovely slap in the face:

“What matters to you is not necessarily what you say or believe, but what your actions and reactions reveal as important and serious to you. So you may want to ask yourself the question: what are the things that upset and disturb me? If small things have the power to disturb you, then who you think you are is exactly that: small. That will be your unconscious belief.”

I’m not down on myself for feeling disappointment. But I do think that what Eckhart Tolle is saying in that passage, is how far are you willing to go to hang onto that disappointment, to eat it up and make it part of yourself? (Well…ego self.)

On Monday, I was willing to nurse it, nurture it, to reinforce this deep-seated belief that “I Never Get What I Want” and also the corollary, “Life Owes Me What I Want.”

I still need to find a place to live in San Francisco. And yes, I’d love it if the place were charming.

But I can get excited, feel disappointment, and not let this be about more than an apartment. I can recognize that I am not owed. I am not a victim. And my spirit is bigger than a temporary apartment, whether it’s in San Francisco, a house in Minneapolis, and this fragile body.

I cannot lose what was never mine.

And if I am wise, I would remember that this lesson references more than cute apartments.

This entry was posted on Monday, August 20th, 2007 at 6:34 am and is filed under Warrior. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.