After picking up generic, horse-sized antiparasitic drugs from the pharmacy, Rindahl returned to work at The World’s Happiest Place where, after two years of unemployment, he had recently found a job as a ticket-taker.

Rindahl, who holds dual Masters degrees in physics and engineering, found it difficult to cope after being laid-off from the engineering job he held for twenty years, but after sending out several hundred resumes and exhausting his network of personal connections, he realized that any hopes of returning to his former glory days were futile. It began to dawn on the 58 year-old that there was always someone younger, less expensive, more eager, and more educationally up-to-date to take his place.

Being the pragmatic sort, Rindahl realized he could not continue to support his middle-class lifestyle with a savings account that had nearly been wiped out by the latest downturn of Wall Street.  Rindahl sold his home, boat, and most of his furnishings at a loss, splitting what little remained with his then-wife, Marjorie.  Tired of her husband’s excessive hand-wringing and bouts of uncontrollable sobbing, the fashionable Mrs. Rindahl filed for divorce and went to live in Sedona, AZ where she is presently running a retreat for ex-partners of the formerly wealthy.

Alone, nearly-penniless, and living in a studio apartment furnished with a 1970′s sleeper sofa and a hot-plate, Rindahl took the advice of his sliding-fee county therapist, and took the first job offered to him.  The pay cut, from $160K a year to $8.50 per hour was a painful transition for Rindahl, whose self-esteem tended to be attached to his ability to provide for himself and make a decent living.  It was this attitude, according to 26 year-old M.S.W. counselor and certified chakra healer Tiffani Young,  that was keeping Rindahl from experiencing true happiness.

“What George needed to do was re-frame his experiences and see them not as setbacks, but as opportunities for growth. Instead of thinking ‘I can’t believe this is happening to me’, George needed to be thinking ‘this is all happening for a reason‘ and to trust that the reason would ultimately reveal itself to be good and enlightening,” says Young.

Rindahl wasn’t too sure. “Let go and let the Universe is a hard concept,” he explains. “It assumes that there is a wise, rational authority that’s really invested in each of our lives on a microscopic level.  That didn’t make sense to me given the level of needless suffering in the world, but then Tiffani’s words began to ring back at me…who am I to say what’s needless? Who am I to judge the necessity of plagues, starvation, violence, or even my own situation?  That was the first step in my recovery — to realize that the Universe, in Her infinite wisdom, always provides what’s needed even if our less evolved human minds can’t always grasp the reasons.”

Rindahl’s tentative recovery was tested when his supervisor at The World’s Happiest Place informed Rindahl that he had not worked there long enough to accrue any sick days and would not be paid for any time he took off.  Rindahl was also warned that he was still on his 90 day probation, and that things like being absent or tardy wouldn’t bode well for his future career.

“I’ll admit it,” says Rindahl. “I was angry. I stood out there in the chilly wind, with my stomach on fire and my bowels cramping and tried to do my job, but it wasn’t easy. I had to run to the bathroom every few minutes with explosive diarrhea, and there was always a line. On my third or fourth trip, my supervisor caught me and told me I couldn’t take anymore unauthorized breaks. I tried to listen, but I just couldn’t hold it anymore. I ran to the bathroom, pushed my way to the front of the line, and took the first open stall. When I got out, my supervisor informed me that he was writing me up for inattentiveness and a bad attitude.

“I felt like punching him, but then I remembered Tiffani’s words.  Let go and let the Universe.  So I did. I thanked the young man for being so diligent about his work and returned to my station without complaint.  And yes, I had an accident in my pants, but then…there really are no accidents, are there?  And sure, I got fired, but only because the Universe had something better for me in mind.”

On Tuesday, Rindahl, who is presently a guest at the Bakersfield Homeless Mission, explained his new found peace of mind to a small crowd of huddled others waiting for the Mission’s doors to open. “It’s not what happens that determines your happiness,” he emphatically explained to the men, “it’s how you choose to feel about what happens.  Like when I got mugged and lost my last twenty dollars and two front teeth?  I could have seen that as a bad thing — I could have mourned the loss of my previously alright appearance and the last of my bus money — but instead I asked myself:  What lesson am I meant to learn from this?  What is the Universe trying to teach me?  The answer, dear gentlemen, was humility.  Once I really processed that, I began to see how my arrogance had been holding me back from achieving the kind of bliss the Universe bestows when we are open to Her possibilities.”

Rindahl’s lesson was cut short by the ringing of the 5:00 dinner bell and the rush to get inside the warmth of the building, where industrial-sized vats of soup and loaves of day-old bread were waiting. The premature departure of his unwitting students didn’t  bother Rindahl.  “It is what it is,” he said. “There is no failure, you know, only opportunities to learn — and tomorrow is another day full of glorious opportunities.”

Rindahl still sees Young on occasion, not so much for therapy anymore, but for continuing moral encouragement.  “I am just so proud of George,” Young says.  “He has really turned his life around by thinking positive, and by making the choice not to let his self-esteem be ruled by circumstance. He has turned sour lemons into sweet lemonade.  We could all learn a lesson from George.”

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