2.14.2006

You can run, but you can't hide.



And I thank Hornblower for letting me know that.

Yesterday, or the day before, I posted an entry on this blog. It was my pity party. Things in my life are changing, and I have not openly admitted a bit of news to some of the real-life friends of mine who frequent this board. So I took the entry down. That, and I didn't like sounding needy.

I am not a religious person, but that does not prevent me from feeling connected to the bloggers who occasionally drop a line, to ask me a question, to thank me for some bit of information that I've been able to provide, or who lead a full-fledged Pity Party Production Live! From Somewhere in North America! V.1! complete with an mp3 download for me to listen to.

Why do we feel blue or let-down? I sometimes think it is Zeitgeist. Humanity just heaving a humongous sigh, to which we are not immune. One of my friends who took me out to a Mexican dinner on the night of my birthday, at the dinner, talked to me about his plans in life, about finding this ridiculous-looking truck in Mexico, and wanting to do something artistically with it (if you've been reading this blog, you probably know who I am referencing). This man has had an enormous amount of loss in his life. Loss of friends in deeply-rooted friendships, suddenly, and within the space of about a year from each other. So, what are you going to put on the truck? I asked him. A prayer, he replied. I paused. And cried. And he cried.

My friend Kaeshi is a lovely oriental dancer from Brunei who did a multimedia meditation for Thich Nhat Hanh, a Buddhist monk who was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize (click on "Play" to view - I know it's on beliefnet, but I promise it's not offensive). Kaeshi once explained to me, while we stood in a Barnes & Noble in Union Square, between the Chess and Yoga, in her exquisite way, about three times, a rather simple concept - about being the tree - that was somehow more complex than I perceived. Being the tree.

Sigh.

Finally, since quantum physics might have an explanation for some of this nonsense, there is something, maybe, on the tree icon here. I don't know. Maybe you do. Things are happening in such weird sequences in my life that I thought I would include it.

I thank Hornblower for the Glenlivet which has assisted this enlightened state of consciousness.

3 comments:

Hornblower said...

It is when we're taking those first steps (like daring to disclose intentions and goals) that it feels like we're watching a stone balanced at the edge of a precipice, a stone which is tottering and which will start rolling. It is our uncertainty and fear that gives us pause. We don't know where this stone will stop, how it will change the landscape. We fear the change. And perhaps more, we fear that things will not change. It is that moment of infinite possibility, where for a while any outcome is possible, which is both exhilerating and terrifying.

Isn't it funny how different our imageries are? You're growing trees. I'm chucking rocks down cliffs, down to the sea.

Anyway.
You're welcome.
Anytime.

Becky said...

The post was on Bloglines, but not when I went to the blog, which in my current state (away from all of the comforts of home) bamboozled me and I didn't read all through the post at Bloglines as I should have : (

I sympathize, La Mai, especially about not liking to sound needy (I'm the type who when asked, How are you, automatically responds, "Fine thanks" even if my arm is dangling out its socket). And I continue to dislike change, though I'm much better with the more welcome variety now. I'm even getting somewhat better at tolerating the unwelcome variety, because somehow having kids means change is now a constant in my life.

Hurray for Hornblower and the Glenlivet : ) . We're here for you, La Mai.

la Maitresse said...

::sniff, sniff:: : )