feeling powerless

Yesterday, before I found the happy purple flowers on my cactus, I was washing a birdcage in the rain. If you've never had a parrot, you can't imagine the amount of poop one small bird can generate, and how much can build up over the winter in the cage when it can't be taken outside and hosed. And I have SIX parrots. Luckily my cleaning lady cleans their room--I only have to do the cages themselves, not the floor or walls anymore.

So I'm scrubbing away, and my leg is hurting so bad that I'm trembling, but I want to finish at least one of the 3 cages because frankly, they stink, and I can't deal with it anymore. And it starts raining, not nice warm soft summer rain, but cold pointy spring rain, and here I am barefoot in capris and a t-shirt. And of course the cage parts won't dry in the rain, so they have to be dragged inside while still wet, wetting the carpet, and put together wet and therefore will rust.

And it occurs to me: this is part of my "feeling powerless" story. I am powerless over the weather. I am powerless over the pain in my leg. I am powerless over the amount of poop my birds generate.

I mentioned this to my therapist today, and she said it's a breakthrough. I could have been a victim of the rain and the poop and the cold. Instead I looked at it a different way, didn't take it personally, analyzed it and moved on.

Apparently there is yet another step beyond acknowledging that it's got nothing to do with me, but I'm not ready for that yet.