She woke up humming to herself and then asked me who sings I Think We're Alone Now? She was futzing with her I-phone so I could only guess she was looking it up.
I dont know I answered. The Beatles?
In a minute it was on, coming through those mini-speakers of her phone all distorted. I stopped in the middle of the room to listen and I had to strain. But then the automatic motion of my body halted on the peak of my breath and demanded my awareness in that quiet inside way that feels like soft nudging or a sparkle--and then everything else fell in to place: everything stilled. The moment stopped. We were breathing, and listening to the music. Feeling every arc of voice every pause of breath and especially every word.
When it was done I just looked at her. Weepy, like we'd been since the night before. Wow, this is the song you woke up humming? and she just nodded wide-eyed. I always heard it as a love song I said, and she nodded some more than started to play it again.
We were surrounded by friends the night before, tons of friends, but in her animal head she was scurrying up the walls of herself spinning out because she felt so alone. She's a junkie but like me has been clean a long long while. When she finally talked about it the fear and self-hate I hugged her forever and told her the only secret that I truly know: that aloneness, it is what we all have in common, what binds us together as humans! It's what Buddha called suffering. But so many of us use that fear to alienate ourselves from one another when our real duty is to let it allow true compassion to grow. Because really, loving me and my tortured human parts are all I need to be able to learn to love you, and yours...
It was Sunday morning and like I said we were away on a road trip and partying with lots of lots of friends. And all I could think the whole time, the whole weekend, all I could clearly see the whole time was how much each of us, how much we all just want and need love.
I got home on Sunday it was late and I had to work Monday way early. The sun was out so blue and the trees were in that heavenly chorus that sounds so good and feels like breath on Monday afternoon and I was in Caroline County so I drove to the park in the woods and had a little visit with Chop. I took myself out to dinner, a lovely old-fashioned date with me. I brought Dani Shapiro's Devotion with me to finish, it's the story of a woman's crisis of faith and struggle for a working spirituality in her life and my writing partner, Erika, shipped it to me the week I quit my job even though she didn't know that that's what I was doing at the time. It has had me well-versed the last few weeks or so and I've been taking it in slowly the way I do chamomile tea or deep breaths of lavender oil in the bathtub. I got all weepy again, Monday night at the Italian restaurant, when I read:
The human condition--the knowledge of this--drives many of us to drink, to drugs, to denial, to running as fast as we can away from the truth of life's fragility. We think we can shore ourselves up. If only we work hard enough, make lots of money, are good and kind enough, pray hard enough, we will somehow be exempt. Then we discover that no one is exempt. What is to be done?
Wow. What is to be done? I thought about it and there are plenty of things that I do. Probably the most important of them all--I find time almost every day to sit quiet, and I have a special place--a chair that has come with me everywhere since I was 19--to do so. I just sit, and sigh, and relax and remind myself that so long as I can breathe and sink within then right now, in this moment, all is well. Sometimes all I can literally find is five minutes but even so I do this pretty much daily--so much so I almost forget to talk about it because I am so accustomed to this necessary me-time and so reliant on the results that I take it for granted. And I dont do it because I am disciplined or sacrosanct or because I feel like I have to in some rigid way...I do it because I crave the results. I Like Feeling Good. And it's made me convinced--I am the tool I came here with, and I am the only thing I'm leaving here with, so I and only I have the power to go inside me and find, or otherwise, effect my peace. To know and watch what's happening inside me, and to love all of it, which is the only way I might ever change. Love love love.
Love of me in my most raw and human condition. My most alone.
I sent my grlfriend the quote over email. It sounds so simple doesn't it? Love yourself. So simple but what's got us all on the absolute run.
