Final Post

I'm reading The Elegance of the Hedgehog.  There is a super intelligent thirteen year old girl who ruminates on the meaning (or lack) of life:

Apparently, now and again adults take the time to sit down and contemplate what a disaster their life is.  They complain without understanding and, like flies constantly banging against the same old windowpane, they buzz around, suffer, waste away, get depressed then wonder how they got caught up in this spiral that is taking them where they don't want to go.  The most intelligent among them turn their malaise into a religion:  oh, the despicable vacuousness of bourgeois existence!  Cynics of this kind frequently dine at Papa's table:  "What has become of the dreams of our youth?" they ask, with a smug, disillusioned air.  "Those years are long gone, and life's a bitch."  I despise this false lucidity that comes with age.  The truth is that they are just like everyone else:  nothing more than kids without a clue about what has happened to them, acting big and tough when in fact all they want is to burst into tears......people aim for the stars, and they end up like goldfish in a bowl.   I wonder if it wouldn't be simpler just to teach children right from the start that life is absurd.  That might deprive you of a few good moments in your childhood but it would save you a considerable amount of time as an adult, not to mention the fact that you'd be spared at least one traumatic experience, i.e. the goldfish bowl.


She goes on to say,

With the exception of love, friendship and the beauty of Art, I don't see much else that can nurture human life......When I say Art...I'm not just talking about great works of art by great masters..I'm referring to the beauty that is there in the world, things that being part of the movement of life, elevate us.....Grace, beauty, harmony, intensity...


This morning, I walked on the lakefront, I had a meaningful conversation with a friend.  When I got home, Joey and I melted into each others' arms - all 45 pounds of fur and muscle jumped into my lap and he clung to me and I to him.   It's amazing really that we found each other and that we need each other so much.  He doesn't let me out of his sight for a moment.   He won't even walk down the back stairs to the yard to do his business if I'm not right at his side.  He has finally found someone to love and he's not letting go anytime soon. Sound familiar?   He and I will both be attachment disordered weirdos together.  After our snuggle session we sat on the deck, enjoying the quiet of the morning, the busy-ness of the squirrels, the happiness of the birds, and the industriousness of a spider who, right in front of my eyes, spun an exquisite web.   Grace, beauty, harmony, intensity.

I believe what Kaveh tells me - that life is a comedy and a tragedy - that it IS absurd in a good way.   I don't believe there is anything else...that there is a big payoff at the very end, or that we get to come back multiple times to get it right.   I think this is it.....the big performance, a single showing.   Life is NOT a dress rehearsal so we have to sing our hearts out and give the performance of our lives.   And it has to be good enough - damn the critics.

My friend Nick wants to feel pain...seriously.   He was in love once in his twenties to a woman who did not love him back.   He was tortured and sleepless, hunting her down every night, looking for her in every bar until he found her, then taking her home to her bed and watching her sleep, wishing she loved him.   Since then he has lived carefully...he has made safe choices....he hasn't put his heart in harm's way.   But no pain, no gain.  He now finds himself over sixty in a relationship that brings him little joy.   He is in danger of being a flat liner.  And so he recognizes the price he has paid for "safe".....and now he longs to feel something, anything, even the pain of love.

I am in excruciating pain.   I waited all my life to find someone I clicked with...I wasn't sure it would happen.   I've never met anyone who I liked half as much as Patrick and with whom I could imagine living happily ever after.   I'm not sure I will be blessed again with such a fortuitous accident - the divine accident of finding one's "other".   Maybe it will happen...maybe not.   And to open one's heart and to have it rejected is something that's difficult to recover from....it tests your will to survive..to recover intact has to be one of life's big accomplishments.  To be rejected is devaluing...it is humiliating...worse it can topple you - reduce you to rubble.

So, yes, life is absurd, but it is also incredibly beautiful and if we are lucky there are unexpected pleasures when we need them most, to offset the gut wrenching sadness (like the hug of a dog or the magical beauty of a spider web).   I am not in the fishbowl.   Are you?   Much of the time I conduct myself through the eyes and with the naivety of a child - life is technicolor for me and I like it that way.  The toddler in me clung to the belief that love could conquer Patrick's and my obstacles.   I counted on magical thinking to restore him to me - that, if I wished hard enough, Santa, the gods or Tinker Bell would bring him back.   But I'm not ALL child.  There is also a wise mother in me - she is the one who tells the scary truth and counsels me to settle down and face reality.  And I guess I'm glad she's there even if she's a drag to be around - even if I hate what she has to say most of the time.  She is so practical and should be heeded even if she doesn't  know how to wish on stars to get what she needs.  She tells me he has gone.

Don't worry.  I will be fine....my spirit is intact....I will continue to wish on stars....I will continue to marvel over beauty...I will keep making mammalian connections and seek the warmth of others.....I will continue to feel joy and sorrow...I will live fully and embrace the mysteries unfolding around me...I will sing my heart out....I will strive for grace, beauty, harmony and intensity.  And I will always love Patrick  until the day I die, even if someone else has taken up residence in my heart.

This is my last post...I may start another blog at some point with a different name that won't have such a personal focus.  Send me an e-mail if you would like the link.

Thanks for listening.   It was helpful.

Sarah