Life Lessons

Here’s How I Felt When My Credit Card Was Hacked Again.

And a beggar threw a $2 donation coin to my neck afterward. I am okay and still grateful.

Despite our utmost security precautions, our credit card gets hacked with unauthorized purchases almost every year around this time. I am still trying to understand the reason.

This time the offenders purchased 12 items from Microsoft using our Visa card in one go which alerted the bank’s security system. They immediately blocked the card due to unusual transactions and texted us, informing the incident.

Besides the effects of money stolen, which could be recovered with the planned dispute from the bank, the main issue is losing the card and waiting for a replacement. It takes ten business days in Australia to get a new card after it is closed off.

In addition, I spent around an hour providing the required details and starting the process of replacing the card on the phone. Since Murphy loves these critical times, it keeps interfering with our lives.

Murphy and I have been good friends for many years. He never leaves me alone when I get a setback. It attempts to double or triple the setback. I believe that Murphy might have a good connection with stoic gods to give me more knocks trying my patience and endurance.

Unequivocally, it was not the first time Murphy appeared in these types of situations. So I knew he would play some tricks again. And he did with a first dart. My debit card expired a week ago, which I haven’t used for over a year. Unluckily, the bank did not send a replacement one due to a fault in their alerting system.

Earlier today, after seven days of fasting during my annual leave that I spent at home, I noticed no fresh food left in the fridge. So, I decided to go for my weekly grocery shopping.

I selected my weekly food requirements from our local supermarket in the trolley. Unfortunately, the debit card did not work when I tried to pay at the counter. All I had in my valet was a $100 banknote and a $2 coin for emergencies. My usual weekly grocery costs around $250. I had to return more than half of the products I chose. The cashier felt sorry for my situation.

I was grateful as at least I had some basic food that I could break into my long-term fast. Despite seven days of fasting, I was not hungry, but I preferred not to fast more than seven days as a principle. I only eat fresh food, so what we stock in the pantry and other long-term storage units is unsuitable for my lifestyle. However, I have a few frozen pieces of food in the fridge for extreme emergencies. Besides, they take a while to defrost and do not taste as good as fresh ones.

I was happy with getting the essentials. I started walking with the trolley towards my car. It was only a meter close to my car a person stopped me abruptly. He started talking to me with highly emotional and confusing words with tears in his eyes. I finally understood that he was asking for money. I tried to explain my situation, saying I had no cash. Then I remembered the $2 coin in the emergency section of my wallet. When I am in a fasted state, I usually feel more alert and compassionate with a high level of ketones in my brain.

I removed the coin and handed it over to the beggar. He got the money and instantly threw it toward my head in slow motion. My amygdala is overactive in these situations as I performed Martial Arts training in my younger years. so I subconsciously turned my head.

I did not know what was happening consciously. But my amygdala did sense it. The coin hit my neck. I was grateful once more it did not hit my eye. The Australian $2 coin is a small but solid metal. Fortunately, it did not damage my face. My neck got red, but there was no bleeding. I was grateful once more.

After the incident, I told the guy that I had no money to give and was sorry about his situation, and I couldn’t help him. He continued swearing at me. The last remark was, “you stingy bastard, shove that money in your arse. You have a big wallet full of dirty money — shame on you, fella. Look, you drive a super-duper car.”

I softly said my car was eight years old. I noticed that it was a defensive remark. I wondered why I had to justify my position. Apparently, it came from the subconscious mind. I only noticed after saying it. He continued, “You don’t care a tiny bit. I got to go to Mildura tonight. Me sheila passed away. The sun’s gonna set soon. Me mates are waiting for me on the farm for funeral. Gimme at least a fifty box. Now”.

My memories reminded me that Mildura was at least eight hours of drive from Melbourne. It had nothing to do with sunset. His mysterious words made me feel like I was in the middle of chapters of a novel by Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, or even Albert Camus. I slightly pinched myself it was not another lucid dream as I had several of them during the departure of Janine and Jeremy recently.

In the meantime, I took a glance at his eyes cautiously and scanned his body with my peripheral vision. His teary eyes were tangled with pain, anger, sadness, and hatred. These emotions were noticeable in his eyes and facial expression. In my first impression, he did not have a functional brain and mind.

As it was a sweltering day in Melbourne today, around 33 degrees Celsius, he was wearing a T-shirt and shorts like me. His arms and legs were full of scars. Those injuries reflected drug use in my perceptions. I sensed he was not in control of his cognitive brain.

I wished him the best and started unloading my grocery into the boot of the car. He started hitting the front of my car with his hands like a spoiled child throwing tantrums toward his parents. My cognitive systems took over my limbic system, instantly encouraging me to firmly warn him that I would call the cops if he continued pretending to dial my mobile phone.

As soon as he heard the word cops and saw my mobile phone in my hands, he started running away. I believe the word cops scared him as his brain might have this word in his instant memories. Many drug abusers are afraid of the police from my previous experience.

A few people in the car park looked at us none of them interfered. After he left, an old lady with two walking sticks said, “Mate, you handled the situation well. Fair dinkum! This bloke, gush; I got the urge to hit these sticks in his head. I don’t know what to say. Good on ya, mate. You scared him for good!”

Her empathy and compassion in her vernacular were heart-warming to me. A little human touch in these sorts of situations can have a calming effect. I thanked her for her conversation and said goodbye. She got closer to me and softly kissed me on one cheek affectionately and pat on my shoulders a few times. Her loving behavior cemented another beautiful memory in my aging brain by creating oxytocin-balancing spiked adrenalin during the incident.

I was not sure I handled the situation well per this senior’s perception, but it was instant relief for me. Since I was in a fasted state, I felt calmer and more composed than in my fed state. I did not feel any anger or hatred but felt disappointment and pity. The beggar tried to make me feel guilty. If it was a few decades ago, I could have fallen into a guilt trip. But with regular practice of self-compassion, I don’t fall into this trap anymore.

When I arrived home, I did not have the slightest appetite to eat food. I called the bank about our expired card, and they apologized their system did not detect the expired card. They would send it via express post, which might take three days. Luckily my wife had a little cash in her purse for emergencies, so we might be fine for the next three days.

I started checking my emails for the day. A few days ago, a platform suspended my account, thinking that this article reflecting facts from scientific literature was harmful and against their policy. Yesterday they removed the strike, so I submitted it.

Then their immature AI gave another strike to the same article and suspended my account again. I shared my experience a few days ago in this article. I might provide an update on this as it turns into abuse of creators. A few people from my circles abandoned the platform. They wonder why I am so patient with this juvenile business.

Then there was another email from a micro-blogging platform similar to Twitter that I had used for 12 years. All I do is share my article links daily as my routine social media activity. The notification said my account was terminated as the article links were considered possible spam. They provided an appeal link to recover the terminated account.

So, for 12 years, the account was okay with my sharing links, and suddenly their AI system found my article links as spam. It looked like a tricky job for Murphy. But I couldn’t care less.

These two emails naturally disturbed my subconscious mind, but I immediately noticed the emerging thoughts and associated emotions. I stopped reading my emails and decided to have a quick meditation session. The session instantly transformed me into a neutral state. Then I had a five-minute compassion meditation thanking Murphy, the Beggar, and juvenile AI systems for teaching me new life lessons.

Similar to Murphy, serendipity also follows me. It is even stronger than Murphy in my life. I had several delightful pieces of news warming my heart earlier today. For example, I read this heartwarming piece from Shirley Willett and this insightful piece from Julia E Hubbel, mentioning the impact of my stories. My mood was at the high end of the spectrum until going shopping. Then, the infinity symbol depicted the declining end with Murphy’s intervention.

Nevertheless, after the meditation, it neutralized again. When I was about to write my last paragraph of this therapeutic story aiming to connect with my readers genuinely to give glimpses of my day, the metaphorical infinity symbol in my perceptions turned to a positive end, boosting my mood again.

Life is fascinating, with its continual ups and downs. Murphy and serendipity pull the strings of my psyche toward opposite ends. Serendipity wins most of the time by design, so I am immensely grateful for my blessings every moment. Despite psychological challenges, my health is intact, and life goes on like a river. And, contrary to common conviction, today, I learned that beggars could be choosers.

Thank you for reading my perspectives. I wish you a healthy and happy life.

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