“Everything takes time. Bees have to move very fast to stay still.”~ David Foster Wallace
“You can’t study the darkness by flooding it with light.” ~ Edward Abbey
I met an old friend yesterday, quite by chance, out front of the corporate supermarket across the highway from my place of employment. She’s a friend to this day but she started out as my psychotherapist, not long after I moved to Taos. She was a good one too, having used multiple modalities to approach my inner turmoil. She’s just turned 70; that’s 20 years older than when we first met. Neither of us look our age; not to us. When I think about it I realize that she knows me better than most any person I know. I’m remembering one day when she used tuning forks and singing bowls on me. I was flat on my back on the massage table. I’m a musician, right? I say that to preface telling you about the totally astounding sounds she set loose into the room. I felt them wash over and through me. Then spirits came. There was a cadre of spirits who attend to give me council at appropriate times. So many of them at one time. This had never happened before, not in my conscious awareness. No, I could not see them. I have no memory of just how this experience – or if – aided me in my endeavors to feel a little more adequate in this life. That’s how I feel a good part of the time, even to this day. Inadequate. Barely relevant. That kind of shit. I could say right here that this is the source of my sometimes rampant anxiety, but I sure ain’t gonna step away from a holistic point of view just to get a definitive answer to a problem that has no answer. Life comes at us from all directions, and that sound-saturating experience gave me, like a drink of cool water, relief from the friction I experience in mingling with crowds of people, any time I go into town. I’m an empath and an introvert. Sometimes it just hurts, that’s all. So let’s stay holistic. It all happens at once. My friend knows this. We stood face to face, quite close, and held steady eye contact as we chatted. Her blue eyes held me still. Our relationship is not what it was. She asked me how I have been doing and my expression faltered momentarily. She caught that and shot back a gesture of concern. I told her the truth, that the fight to stay strong within the bipolar awareness I struggle with is getting me down, much more than I care to admit. It was an intimate moment, our faces not even two feet apart, when her eyes sparkled briefly, and her gentle smile made me sigh. She knows my story and my pain. No, we could not, way back when, fix any of it. There’s nothing to fix: that’s the point. When I expressed all this with only a briefing confession she simply reached out and placed her right palm against me heart. “You’re a good soul”, said she. I said, “So are you”. We embraced, right there at the entry way to the honkin’ big market, smack in the middle of a crowd of holiday shoppers, then went our separate ways. It was good. I feel more at peace this morning. Seventy. Who knew, right? Yeah, our equipment is showing age; our bodies and brains and stuff; but we have not aged, we have just gathered wisdom along the way. Dude there’s no time dude because it’s like all illusion and stuff dude. The embrace was good. C’est la vie.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.