Rapid Karma

According to the soothsayers of TikTok, 2026 is going to be a year of transformative change, an upheaval of old ways, and the fiery start to new modes of being. Thank God.

Instead of “calm before the storm,” the storm came first with Winter Storm Fern. After living in one room of my house (where the gas fireplace is) with my dogs for three days due to having no power, we ended up evacuating on the fourth day when the city cut off our water supply because they didn’t have enough water for the hospital. This exodus first led us to Louisiana where my brother and his husband live, only to find out that one of my dogs, Frank, has a pathological fear of stairs. They live in a walk-up.

We tried to make a go of it. Made a pallet for Frank at the base of the stairs. Gave him a bed, blankets, and a space heater. During the day when I would talk with patients, Frank and I would sit in the car. It worked well enough until nighttime when the rest of us would go to bed upstairs and Frank would be by himself, sad and lonely, separated from his pack. He would cry, and I would get out of bed to comfort him, consequently getting little sleep. Five days into it, the dogs and I moved into an extended stay hotel for another five days so Frank and I could finally get some sleep.

These events reminded me that I’m not cut out to be one of those people who lives through an apocalypse, like Will Smith in “I Am Legend.” Honestly, I’d rather get killed in the alien invasion or swallowed up by the big earthquake. I am not “the fittest” (see Darwin) and don’t want to survive such disasters; I don’t even like camping or bad hotels. Because of this aspect of my personality, the ice storm shifted me into a new headspace—one that does not involve winters in my future or living in states where the powers that be deny the climate is changing and have no infrastructure or plans in place for extreme weather conditions.

My mental shift seemed to be a manifestation of the transformative change that the social media sages spoke about, some sort of seismic pull into another chapter of my life. I have since decided I am currently in chapter 9 (more on that in my last post), but the foundation for chapter 10 is being laid as we speak.

In psychology, we talk about “magical thinking,” wherein a person assigns meaning to something that is most likely meaningless. But as Camus suggested—i.e., we are meaning-seeking creatures in a meaningless world, so I, too, engage in this kind of absurdist thought, which brings me to the past seven days.

Last weekend, I was at a restaurant and offered up my “better” table to a man and his wife so they could sit where she wanted. I didn’t think anything of it until I asked for my check, and I was told it had already been paid for by someone else. Instant karma! I saw this as a positive sign.

Yesterday, I called a plumber to fix the lack of hot water at my house, and he suggested that instead of my paying for him to come over, he could simply tell me how to resolve the issue over the phone, which he did. Probably saved me 200 bucks! Another positive sign.

Later in the day, I learned of a woman with four kids, no job, and a broken-down car who needed some assistance. Subsequently, I dropped off two car-loads of donations to her apartment. Pay it forward! More positive energy, both given and received.

2025 was the year of the wood snake, wherein we shed our old skin and that which no longer served us. 2026, according to the Gregorian calendar, or 4724, according to the lunar calendar, is the year of the fire horse and brings with it boldness and action. I feel the energy in the universe gearing up, and I am happy to jump on the horse. After all, “Mah” means “horse,” and I’m always ready for the next ride.