...from a near-forgotten journal entry...
"There are the days when you give up a little bit even. Sometimes they happen many many times in one year – in one month – in one week. And that’s the thing of it. They say our habits form our lives – form our persons – form or characters – the thing you do from day-to-day – becomes the meat and substance of your being. The boy who spends countless hours in front of a mirror perfecting his pas du bourre and his pique turn – well. There may never be a paycheck attached but in the end, he will always be a dancer. The girl who stares down one end of a microscope day after day – acquainting herself with every manner of bug or bacteria or leaf or cell – she may not be the one to cure cancer – or win a nobel prize, but at the end of a day -……
Likewise, the girl who sits at home – waiting – avoiding – hiding – tucked neatly under the covers, escaping some faintly imagined headache – she dreams – of cities and countries and places not yet visited. She closes her eyes and imagines a girl – herself – but a stranger too – this girl - thinner, livelier,lovelier – more vibrant than the original – who says things – does things – makes things happen! And is altogether different – and so much more alive! Than the timid girl tucked beneath the sheets – waiting for her spark to happen.
So what does this make her? A dreamer – a loafer – an ingrate – you might even say. And worse, perhaps, is that she has learned to take on whatever shape life brings – first one off the rack, so to speak. It doesn’t quite fit, she’s learned. A little tight in places – so she’s learned not to breathe. A little loose in others – where she’s taught herself to stay in place and hold up the pieces. You could say it’s all wrong, really. For while time has marked her now with its inevitable passing, she clings – to a life that no longer fits – to a life that somehow belongs to somebody else – to a life – perhaps – she never really wanted in the first place – or a life – she simply never knew how to have…. All the little things…. Things like …. Happiness…. Contentment……… joy…….. These have never meant all so very much to her. Very early on, she learned that happiness is fleeting, and people will always – always – let you down.
Very early on, she learned to retreat – first to her room – then to a song – then to a bottle of something hot and pungent – next to the arms and eyes of a momentary lover – and now – to her memory – her own wistful song….
So who does she become? A relic? A dream? A ghost?
She knows expressly what she must do. It is as simple as coming home – as waking up – as choosing to be HERE. NOW. Those three simple words – so overused and referenced in our feel-good vocabulary. Along with the tenets of self-esteem and the like. Oprah says she needs to realize the dream within herself – to set the boundless visionary free! To live her dreams! Yaddayaddayadaa….
Awake. And present. For some of us, perhaps the very hardest thing to do of all. For it means the end of escaping, the end of hiding the end of sitting in the backseat of a car – waiting for Prince charming to come and bail us out. To hand us our life – to make it all complete.
See, I got over that hump early. When I was 18, head newly shaved and several strong drinks in me – I found my prince charming, a tall, blonde, surfer-guy with the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen. Somewhere from inside my angry, drunk, and balding head – something told me – that he was for me. And so I took him. And I agree.
But it doesn’t happen the way it does in the movies – you think it will. The clouds will part, God’s voice will pour thru the heavens, announcing that the end of life’s strife for you has now begun. You have found your othehalf – go forth - joyously! – multiply and be happy.
But for me, this knowing – this love – was a quiet one. I knew from that moment I met him on – that this would be the man I’d spend my life with – I was in love! Like a postcard or a sonnet, or a song. But like nothing of those at all. I woke up in the arms of my lover about 2 months in, and distinctly remember thinking – Is that it? Cuz you know, nothing heals all. I was still chubby and sad and driven to tears most days. He was my miracle – sent to drive away all the pain and anger I’d known – but instead – he was my miracle – quietly holding my hand – wiping away hot tears – not quite able, but fully willing to try – and understand. Cuz in the end, it’s your own life you’re saving. There will be help along the way – there will be beautiful lovers, and friends who appear for a brief, shining moment to show you the way – there will be saviors an demons – and everything in between – and oftentimes they’ll all sit right beside you at the table. And in the end, you simply get to shelve – them – all. Like a nice, big cosmic party. Everyone invited – all the ghosts of your past and present – every memory – every fall – every glory – every witness – invite them to come in – enjoy the buffet – pour themselves a glass of punch.
And at the end of a nite, wish them well on their way. Because there comes a time when you get to stop planning – stop thinking – stop wishing and hoping and wondering when life is going to come your way – when the picture-perfect existence that you crave is going to drop from the sky and come wrapped to your doorway like a box of furry kittens. Fuck the kittens. There are no kittens.
What you learn is there is this – today – your heart and your grit and you spit and your metal – and your feet –yes, there they are! Odd-shaped, and calloused, toenails chipping off a brilliant shade of red. And there you are – now having all you need – to walk, to dance, to run…….."
funny how life seems to weave its way around the same fundamental truths again and again. i think... you'll keep hearing the lesson, keep falling down on the same patch of ground... until finally.. you know... you've learned. and you choose to take a different path this time... here's hoping..
