Nothing Is Predictable

by Adalina Mae

  I decided to sell my business and start a new life. The due diligence was straightforward for the buyer, as my business was extremely well organized. When the sale went through, on the night of the settlement, I had two bottles of Moet open, one in each hand, and I was jumping up and down on the couch singing on my own and celebrating my success and the freedom from any more arduous financial business battles. Growing up on my own without the support of a father, and having to support and look after my mother, was an accomplishment in itself. I had been persistent, and focused, to make sure Mother was never mistreated or had to struggle again. So, rejoicing over that was long overdue and well deserved.

  I was thirty-five, married and divorced once, engaged once, and I was not going to put myself through that torture again. It was time to focus on what the universe wanted me to pursue.

  Maybe marriage or relationships were not meant for me. Putting things in perspective, I asked myself, How many times am I going to try and fail at this? Maybe it wasn’t the life I was meant to lead. I had never been particularly maternal, although I’d been willing to have a family if I’d married a man who would be a responsible father for my children. I did not want to settle and get married just so I could have a family. I had seen it happen so often with couples, getting married just to have kids. How about working on themselves first to be in alignment with each other instead of marrying for the wrong reasons? I had witnessed so many miserable couples who were incompatible and only stayed together for the sake of the children. Shouldn’t they have known if they were compatible before they got married? I don’t get that. I’d made the mistake of incompatibility at the age of nineteen, but what the hell does a nineteen-year-old know? Particularly when I’d been exposed to those destructive incidents in my childhood, I hadn’t been wise enough or had the mental capacity to think things through.

  When I looked back at why I had been drawn to Tariq, I realized I’d probably been reaching out for a dominant male figure to replace the father I’d lost and needed in my life. Especially after Jamal’s rejection. It took me a long time to forgive myself for that mistake. It took me years to understand why I’d run to him in the first place. Strange how we think we know everything at the age of nineteen. I finally forgave myself for not knowing any better. Now I needed to understand why there was a pattern of relationship blockages in my life. What did I need to learn to open up my heart again?

  It was time I opened my mind to the universe and began to learn to understand the signs I had been ignoring. It was time to change my ways and how I thought.

  As they say, If you always do what you’ve always done, you always get what you’ve always gotten. I’d had enough of what I’d been getting, and it was time to get something completely different. That was my mission.

  In the first half of 2007, the traumatic nightmares repeated more frequently. By May 2007, I needed to travel and change my environment, so I booked an around-the-world trip that started in the south of France.

  I checked into a hotel in Cannes, a boutique hotel with character and style. Every level was a theme from a continent around the world. I had the Moulin Rouge room. C’était beau.

  I decided to take a day tour to Gordon and Eze. Gordon was a gorgeous little town with a lot of character but much to my surprise, Eze took my breath away. A fascinating little village built on a cliff and accessible only on foot. Cobblestone paths weaved through the town. It was a mission walking to the top, but the endless ocean views were worth it. I loved the culture and history of Europe, so different from modern America.

  It was time to fly to Prague to meet Debbie and her husband, and the lovely Livio, my Swiss God. We had remained friends and he had also remained friends with some of the other members of the group from 2002. He decided to meet us in Prague and join us on the road trip to Budapest, Vienna, and Lucerne. The plan was to drive with him to Lucerne to meet his father for dinner. I think my attraction to Livio was magnified by the love I had for his parents.

  While I loved the company of everyone and particularly Livio’s, I have to admit, I was not in a good place. I was emotionally damaged from all the disappointments and trauma I had experienced. I tried to connect with them fully yet struggled to focus on their conversations. I couldn’t admit to them I was suffering from what I thought was depression. I didn’t know if it was depression or extreme dejection over the constant disappointments. I wouldn’t have been depressed if my heart hadn’t been blocked, thrown away, and stepped on numerous times. Some say it was depression, but I prefer to think of it as dejection about life.

  Livio had a great time seeing everyone again, although he wasn’t happy to see me in the state I was in. I had gained a bit of weight since the last time he’d seen me, and the bubbly, outgoing, confident Zara that he once knew seemed to have faded away.

  Livio had always been grateful for the guidance and direction I’d given him. He’d pursued my idea of the sports bar and ended up with a successful business. “You will always be part of my sports bar, Angel, I can’t thank you enough,” he told me numerous times.

  I was sincerely happy for him. Now, although I was happy to see him, I couldn’t bear his sporadic selfish and self-absorbed moments. Even at twenty-nine, he still hadn’t outgrown it. I had zero tolerance and couldn’t take any nonsense from anyone, not even the slightest negative comment.

  He upset me one evening with one of his pompous although innocuous comments, and the following morning I checked out with Debbie and her husband and left him a note at reception. I didn’t want to ruin a vacation I so desperately needed. My friends were baffled I had acted so impulsively, although they knew I was not about to accept any disrespect or take shit from anyone after what I had been through. I was tired from life.

  I continued my trip with Debbie and her husband to Vienna without Livio. After Livio admitted his impertinence to his father, his father forced him to ring me and apologize. I accepted his apology and released the attachment of the incident to avoid negative emotions floating around in my mind, however, I remained firm about not meeting up with them in Lucerne. I spent a couple of nights with Debbie in Vienna until we departed for our separate destinations. My next stop was Barcelona.

  Chapter 32

  Why are you haunting me?

  Europe 2007

  I had another nightmare about Dad. Again, I woke up with a palpitating heart, confused as to why the nightmare had haunted me again that particular night. I visited the Sagrada Familia, an amazing cathedral, where I asked for guidance for dealing with my demons. I sat inside that cathedral with tears pouring down my face. What was happening to me? Depression? Or was it something in the past holding me back and not letting me move forward? Why was my father coming to me in my dreams?

  I prayed and prayed for answers, but the tears kept falling. Why were all my relationships failing? Was it the feeling of abandonment that was tearing me up inside? I had felt alone most of my life. I had only myself to rely on. I’d had to look after Mother since a young age, but who had been there to look after me the way I needed? Mother gave me more love than I could ever want and need, but she obviously couldn’t fulfil the role of a father. I had to be the one who looked after Mother and to an extent, I had to be the ‘man’ of the house. Loss and abandonment were my life experiences. Perhaps I needed to forgive my father. Was that why he kept haunting me at night? All my life I had felt so much bitterness toward him for leaving me with that awful memory of him, and for the destructive childhood experiences I had lived through.

  I cried for over an hour in that church and still, no damn answer.

  I walked around Las Ramblas and found a lovely fine-dining restaurant. I ordered dinner with Spanish wine and before my meal was finished, I had drunk the whole bottle. I was completely drunk, on my own, in a foreign country.

  Good one, Zara!

  I walked around, wobbling in the streets, singing to myself and greeting strangers as they passed. I felt joyous and happy, other than the fact I couldn’t
walk straight. I sat on a bench, observed and nodded at strangers with a smile, and wondered what their stories were.

  Everyone was screwed up. What a great outlook on life I had, to think I was always an optimist, not a pessimist, the glass is half full, not half empty. I see the goodness in people no matter how many times I have been let down, but I couldn’t help question that philosophy after my experiences.

  Eventually I made it to my hotel and as I entered my room, drunk and banging along the walls, I irrationally decided to send an abusive text to Leandro, lashing out at him for ending our friendship so abruptly without proper closure. I just wanted to get it off my chest. I don’t know how I saw the letters to type the message in my state of inebriation, but I managed to send it and felt proud of myself…for about five seconds. I soon regretted what I had done. I didn’t want him to think I wanted him and give him false hope again.

  “Damn, damn, damn! It’s too late, the message is sent, idiot.”

  Before I knew it, I passed out and fell asleep.

  Around 10 am the following day, my eyes slowly began to open, but I was still drowsy from the excessive alcohol I’d consumed the night before. I was sleeping on my stomach, one leg in the west and the other in the south-east, my head facing the right and my left cheek squashed into the pillow. My right arm was plonked over my head and it was patting someone’s hand on my left side. As I reached greater awareness, I realized someone was in the bed with me. Who was sleeping in my bed, and what had I got up to the night before? I panicked, too scared to turn to my left, but continuing to pat that hand and pretend I was still asleep.

  Oh God! I thought. Oh well, what the hell, okay, turn slooooowly and have a peek.

  Disregarding my own advice, I quickly pushed myself up and turned to my left, to see my left arm uselessly flop and hit my leg. At the same time, I lost my balance and fell off the bed. The hand I’d been patting all this time was my own left hand, which was completely numb from having slept on it.

  “Shitfuck, shitfuck, shitfuck!” I muttered to myself, rolling around on the floor with a numb arm and a head spinning from a serious hangover. I couldn’t even lift myself back up to the bed. I sat on the floor and massaged my arm to get the blood flowing. My God, did the pins and needles and head hurt. Eventually, after endless painful minutes, my arm was back to normal. I must have been sleeping on it for hours.

  I reached for my phone, which was flashing with a message in my inbox. I knew he had replied. Oh my God. Now I was sober, the extent of my regret of the night before was magnified.

  “Shitfuck, shitfuck, shitfuck! Why the hell did I send that message?” I managed to stand up, pace around the room to work up the courage, then open the message to read the dreadful reply.

  “Hi Zara, this is Leanne from the coffee shop, I think this message was meant for someone else. I hope you’re ok. Good luck ”

  “Yes! Hail to the inebriated blind!” I yelled.

  Thank God.

  I spent four days in Barcelona, toured all the main sites, and finished my European trip on the Greek Islands, making sure I never drank so much on my own again. It was not so much for the danger of where I might have ended up, or whose hand I might pat, but for the idiotic decisions about who I might try to contact.

  In October 2007, I returned home to LA. I had to be back for a friend’s birthday planned in Vegas the coming weekend so a few days later, I was on the plane again.

  As always, Vegas was a sensory overload, and I was exhausted from all the traveling I had already done. I wanted to join the helicopter tour to the Grand Canyon and because my friends had already done it on previous visits, I went out for the day alone, only to find I was accompanied by four Swedish boys and a hot pilot.

  Go, Zara, go!

  What had I done to deserve such beauty all around me? I felt like the luckiest woman in the world that day. I sat next to the pilot and of all the colognes, he was wearing Eau Sauvage.

  “Jesus Mary and Joseph, are you testing me now?” I muttered.

  You would think after all the shopping I’d done in Europe I’d have had enough, well, no, I shopped some more. Ferragamo, Christian Dior, Chanel, Rolex, and other designers. They say Vegas is only appreciated for its partying and casinos, well I shopped and spoilt myself silly and I appreciated and loved it. The birthday weekend was loud and exhausting and after it, I had no energy left.

  Relieved of the stress of work I usually returned to, with no business commitments or debts, I experienced true financial freedom for once. The pain of my heart was offset by the joy of my financial success and freedom. You can’t have everything in life, so I might as well appreciate what I had, a happy, peaceful, life. Although I was on my own, I was enjoying it, and preferred to be on my own than in an unfulfilling relationship that made me feel as if I was on my own. That’s how I’d felt with William. I’d loved him but felt alone. Especially when I cracked a joke.

  Once I’d settled back into normality and the buzz of my travels passed, I fell back into despondence over my life. I went back to train to lose the excess weight I had gained over the past couple of years. I needed to feel good and look good again. My mission was to focus on my health and regain the confidence I’d once had, along with exploring Buddhism.

  Chapter 33

  Chrisbuddian

  Japan 2008

  The more I learnt about Buddhism, the more it resonated with my views and beliefs about life. However, some beliefs I struggled to comprehend and still question to this day, so I decided to accept the logical teachings of Buddhism and the Christian beliefs about faith and combine the best of the two. It worked for me and I call myself a ‘Chrisbuddian’.

  I decided to go to Japan to find a Buddhist temple where I could lodge for a few months to learn their ways.

  Konichiwa, Tokyo!

  I loved Japan, the cleanest country in the world and the most disciplined and honorable people I have come across. They never run late, and everything is efficient and organized. If more English was spoken, it’s where I’d live. I explored many Buddhist Temples and Shinto shrines, and searched for a temple where I would feel comfortable staying. Knowing something about Buddhism and wanting to look further into it, I wanted to explore it the authentic way in an Asian country, especially Japan.

  They believe in reducing suffering. I could certainly do with that.

  I traveled widely through the mountains, from Tokyo, to Hakone, Nagoya, Shirakawago (my favorite village in the world, a UNESCO Heritage site), Takayama, Kanazawa, and Kyoto. I had no idea what I was eating but was open to experimenting.

  I found a Buddhist temple in Kyoto. I stayed at their temple lodge to learn about and understand their way of life. The stairs in the pavilion leading to the main temple were images I’d only ever seen in Asian movies. I was overwhelmed by the Asian culture surrounding me, and I participated enthusiastically to try to cultivate their wisdom and knowledge. I joined daily silent retreats and walked around the grounds, meditating and reading literature to understand this newly discovered way of thinking and living.

  Every morning I woke up at 4.30 to the gong that heralded the start of the day. First, it was tai chi in the main pavilion. Throughout the blissful serene day, I would hear the Buddhist taku, wooden clappers to call the group together for meditation. I was in my zone the whole time, for the first time in my life, and I felt alive and looked forward to every day. I was constantly escaping to meditate at the lotus pond located in front of the lodge. I was drawn to that pond, where I managed sometimes to achieve a state of concentration and awareness for probably ten seconds.

  I drowned myself in an environment conducive to cultivating peace. I needed to feel the awareness of the moment, the understanding of living in the moment instead of contemplating the past and the future all the time. How could I grasp the joys of the moment if I was constantly reaching out for future desires?

  I preferred my days to be filled with purity and philosophy, rather than wasting time with idle c
hores and in trivial company.

  I warmed to one of the monks who silently observed my helpfulness in assisting her to tidy the meditation room after each session. Her name was Kuya. Everyone else who participated in the class would walk out without thinking of helping. She never asked me to assist, I just did it purely to help her. She had a lovely smile and magnanimous disposition and whenever we crossed paths in the common grounds, she nodded slightly to me in respect with a pure, innocent smile of gratitude. All because of volunteering to help with some minor chores in the temple. She made me feel so worthy because of my simple humble gesture. The Buddhists say that if someone does you good the size of a seed, your gratitude should be the size of a mountain.

  It was a cold Sunday morning, and I took a walk to the hill within the temple grounds and sat underneath a tree, observing nature’s beauty all around me. I thought about my inability to balance my world outside the gates of the temple and wondered how I could take into society what I had learnt over the past few months. When I was hidden away in the temple, it was easy, and it felt natural to reach a state of awareness and develop a lack of attachment toward material desires. Back in the real world at home, although I continued my daily meditation and yoga, it was difficult to live in harmony without the material world, which was all around us. I realized if my desires were within my means, without being covetous about it, then it was okay to allow myself such pleasures without feeling guilty.

  I sat in peace meditating, and analyzing the reality of my endeavors, when I saw Kuya walk up the hill heading toward me. I observed she walked up the hill calmly, without puffing and with no sign of discomfort, whereas I on the other hand, always felt as if I was going to pass out and roll back down the hill.