THE RIGHTS OF SPRING
The woman was sitting on
the end of the breakwater, looking out over the water. Suzie saw her as she was walking up the
beach, and walking closer, she heard her sniffle.
“Hi,
are you here to watch the sunset?” Suzie called.
“I am
here to celebrate,” she replied. “I am celebrating the end. I am at the end of
the road, on the end of these rocks, at the end of my rope, and tonight will be
the end of the darkness.”
“Well,
at the end of the sunset, on very special days like today, if you’re really
lucky, you can see a green flash. Just take off your sunglasses and at the very
last second, watch the place where the sun disappears. Maybe you will be lucky
here at the end of the day” Suzie offered with a smile. “Do you know that tonight
is a very special night? It is the equinox, and the full moon will rise just
after sunset; it is supposed to be the largest full moon in a long time. People
are even worried about earthquakes and stuff. I bet the tides will be really
honking."
“Oh,
I guess that it’s the end of winter, too” said the woman.
“Sure
is.” said Suzie, “I’m Suzie, what’s your name?”
“I’m
Emily” the woman said.
As
Suzie resumed her walk up the beach, she called, “See you later, Emily.”
“Uh,
okay.” said Emily.
Emily
took out her cell phone, opened it up and began to text: _
“End of road, on the rocks, end of darkness, going swimming
:(”
She wasn’t ready to
admit what she was thinking, that it was a swim to the end, just going with the
flow, allowing the tide to sweep her to the horizon, where she might burn up in
the setting sun. She closed the phone and threw it, watching it arc over the
water, and splash into the deep blue surrounding her.
She
crabbed her way across the rocks. She had been more nimble when she was
younger. Living in the city and working in that toxic environment had worn her
down. Now she needed to use her hands to help navigate the jagged stones to the
edge, and gently slip into the water.
The
ocean enveloped her, swallowed her whole, supported her aching body, and
welcomed her. She felt like she was swimming in a mirror; there was not a
ripple on the water, the sky was a clear blue, with some rolling clouds
scattered around. As the sun was lowering toward the horizon, Emily rolled onto
her back, and gently swam out beyond the rocks.
“I
feel like a walrus,” she thought,” so fat and ugly I’m ready for the end. Maybe
I’ll come back as a walrus. No one cares how fat they are. They never complain about
the cold. In the pictures, they are always kind of piled on top of each other,
like they are snuggling. Then I wouldn’t have to be shy about asking for hugs;
lots of touch. But, those male walruses are so huge; sometimes they squash the
females when they mate. Yech, I guess I would want to be a male walrus. Do they
have mustaches?”
She
could feel the pull of the current, towing her toward the open seas. She
relaxed as she allowed herself to be washed away from the shore and toward freedom.
She let the warm salt water bathe away the anxiety she had worn like a shroud,
depriving her spirit of life.
The frigate birds
circled overhead; graceful soaring high in the sky.
“Maybe
I’ll come back as a bird; flying so beautifully in the sky. I would ride the
wind, and soar in the breezes, and when someone pissed me off, I could just
swoop down and drop wet revenge right on them.” She laughed to herself. A smile lit her face. It was the first smile
that she could remember for a long time, and it felt really good.
She tried
to remember what that cheery girl had told her, something special about just
before the sun goes down; something about some kind of flash. She turned her
face toward the setting sun, and gazed as the orange and yellow ball gently
slipped lower in the sky. She watched the head boats go back and forth,
blocking the view sometimes, adding picturesque silhouettes others. Even from
the surface of the water, she had a good view.
Then it happened. From
her place in the water, just as the sun disappeared, the arc of the sky lit up
with the brightest flash of emerald green. Emily could not believe her eyes,
green, the color of life, the color of spring, the color of harmony and balance.
She
looked overhead, the birds were flying to shore to roost. She noticed with
surprise that she was being washed back to shore. The tide was slack, no longer
pulling her out to sea. The gentle action of the waves was washing her closer
to shore with each surge. She relaxed. She still felt the smile on her face.
“Well,
I guess that I may have another chance to see that green flash.” She swam
toward the beach.
As she gazed around, she
saw the moon rise, due east, on the opposite horizon, all orange and looking so
warm and reassuring. It was huge, like an enormous ball of fire lifting out of
the ocean.
There
was someone on the shore with a flashlight calling to her. “Come back. Swim
here. The waves will bring you in.” It was Suzie.
Emily
smiled as she swam toward the shore. The beauty of the green flash and the
pumpkin sized moon were in her mind. Her thoughts were filled with the presence
of nature, and how nature is so awe inspiring.
She
stood and walked out on to the warm sand. Suzie was there; she ran over and
gave Emily a hug, “Wasn’t that incredible!” Suzie said, “The sun setting with
that brilliant green flash, and the moon rising so huge out of the ocean! I
went down along the sea wall to watch it; I love to be alone at these
transcendent moments. I saw you go swimming, and thought that maybe you felt
the same. Let’s go celebrate the end of winter and the start of spring, ok?”
Emily
paused, and looked at the girl; she looked at her in her eyes. She could see
joy and acceptance in Suzie’s eyes. Emily had planned to never return to land
again. She embraced Suzie, and walked with her to the change house.
“Let’s
walk.” Suzie called into the change house.
“Sure”
said Emily emerging from the change house, rinsed and combed, still with wonder
shining from her eyes. “Where are we going?”
“Have
you eaten, I’m hungry. Let’s go get some food”
The two
women linked arms and walked back towards the city, through the fancy
neighborhoods, past the luxury hotels, along the promenade full of vendors
packing up their wares after the sunset ceremony, and up to an outdoor bar by a
brick building.
“This
will do fine” said Suzie “We’re having Cuban.”
“Well,
I saw the green flash for the first time tonight, so I guess that I will eat
Cuban for the first time tonight, too.” said Emily.
They
sat at the bar, and picked up menus. Emily looked perplexed as she surveyed the
menu. “What’s this? I don’t recognize anything. Suzie, would you order, please?”
she said.
When
the server arrived Suzie said with authority, “We’ll have two Mojitos, two
waters and we’ll split the Completa la Tremenda.”
Emily
had no idea what was being ordered. She sat and looked around. Suzie seemed to
know many of the people, and introduced Emily to several. Emily didn’t pay
attention; she was immersed in the atmosphere.
Dusk
brought a bright moon in the east and two bright stars just over the horizon in
the west. A hub-bub of busy people were rushing around, taking orders and
delivering food; and there was a band by the bar. It looked like the band was
just going on break. “I wonder how their music sounds.” Emily thought.
The Mojitos arrived.
Emily looked at Suzie. Emily raised her eyebrows.
“What’s this?” she asked. “Try it.” Suzie suggested.
Take
a sniff. Pull the straw out and place a drop on the tongue. Take a little sip. “Wow!
This is as amazing! It tastes like someone took that green flash and put it
right into this glass. What is it?” asked Emily.
“You
got it right! Rum, mint, lime, sugar and green flash in a glass; watch out for
these, it’s a Mojito, it’s too easy to drink too many”
Emily
sat back with her drink and watched the people milling about. Tourists wearing
Key West t-shirts, with red solo cups in their hands walking past, gawking at
the people already seated at the bar and tables, ogling what they were eating
and drinking, yanking their hungry children toward the familiar chain
restaurants from home.
At the tables there were
families. Families of all ages, parents, kids, grandparents, all laughing, all
dressed for a fancy dinner out. Emily could hear the Spanish voices rising
above the noise, calling to friends across the courtyard. “Ola, Como estas?” “Muy bien.” She
listened to the cadence of the language, submerging herself in its rhythm.
She
was startled back to the present by the arrival of the food. One platter heaped
with the most delicious smelling food, and two small plates. Suzie divided the
food, and they each dug in. Emily had not eaten at all that day, thinking that
being low on energy; she might succumb to the waves sooner. She devoured the
food, yet taking time to allow the food to linger in her mouth and tickle her
taste buds, introducing her to the exotic flavors of the wonderful island of Cuba.
She pushed back from the
bar, and looked at Suzie. Then she looked at the empty plates, the families
gathered at the tables and the last aura of sunset with the stars twinkling on
the horizon. “What next” she asked.
The
band took their places; the instruments were warmed up and the people at the
tables smiled at each other, sharing a common secret. The first strains came
from the band; Aha, Salsa, that wonderful Latin beat.
Hand
in hand the first dancers headed to the dance floor, they were all ages; young,
old, children with their grand parents, couples in love. The beat was strong, fast and exciting. The
dancers knew what to do. It looked like
some had been dancing like this for ever. The joy radiated on their faces, as
the ladies twirled and the couples swirled.
Soon
the first song was over. The guitarist stepped to the microphone and started to
sing a song in Spanish. Emily looked to Suzie, “Wondrous isn’t it?” Suzie said.
They
sat in silence, listening to the rhythms. Their bodies started to move to the
music; the smiles crept across their faces as they reveled in the music. Suzie
stood and started dancing on the spot. Moving away from the table, she motioned
for Emily to join her. “Let’s dance!”
The
time disappeared, Suzie and Emily danced with joy to the sounds reverberating
in that alley way. Then it was over. The band was putting away their
instruments. The crowd was happy and sweaty. Emily and Suzie walked toward the
dock and sat on the sea wall.
Looking
out over the sea, Latin music swirling in their heads, they just sat for a
while. Emily broke the silence, “Look at
that sky! Those bright stars are just about to set, and that moon is making it
as bright as day here. This is an amazing place.”
“Yes,
it is,” said Suzie. “It is a wonderful place to live, with all the beauty and
the friends that you develop. If you are not among the super rich, it can be a
challenging place to live.”
“How
so?” asked Emily.
“Goods
and services and very costly, especially the rents; and there are not many good
jobs out there. Not enough to keep up with the Joneses, anyway. I do OK working
on the water: it takes all I have to make it through slow season, though.”
“So
how do you make do?” asked Emily.
“I
can tell you in three words, simplify, simplify, simplify. You just get used to
doing with less.”
A
mega yacht motored past, blocking the view of the western sky. They watched it
go, throwing up a big wake, with bright lights and loud music blaring from the aft
deck.
Emily
returned to the conversation, “Do we define ourselves through our stuff, our attachments,
or do they define us? I have a job, a jaguar, a joyous attitude?”
“The
acquisition of things is more joyful than the having of those same things. When
we want something, strategy and intrigue can be involved planning the next step
in the process, acquiring the desired goal. Once acquired, your sights move on
to the next goal. The goal just reached can be put on a shelf, taken down from
time to time, and admired, then returned to the shelf. All your eyes and
attractions are focused on the next acquisition.”
“When
I gain familiarity with items I possess, I form attachments to them through time.
Then I have items from the past, which no longer serve any use in life, and I
hold on to them simply because I am attached to them.”
“Yes”,
said Suzie, “Releasing those things to creates space on the shelf for the new;
space for the breeze to blow through, space that is more easily kept free from
stagnation and cob webs.”
“So,
the Stuff of attachment is binding your spirit, keeping it stuck in a time when
this item was a revered, sought after item. Thinking when the eyes lie again on
the item, the heart can feel the joy of the beauty and the possession. But, the
beauty can still be appreciated without the possession. We need not attach to
appreciate.”
“Why
do we attach to one another?” asked Emily.
“Families
do more easily with 2 role models, two adults nurturing. With family, there is
attachment. Sometimes this is fostered through deep and profound friendship.
That attachment is an ever evolving shared thing of beauty, not a possession,
kept free of stagnation by the freshness of shared direction.”
Suzie
led Emily from the dock through the streets of the city, up alley ways, past open
air bars, past the barkers trying to get you to go upstairs, and others
offering the ladies free drinks. There were shops with naughty t-shirts,
stylish shoes, key lime pies, hand made soaps, crystals and rocks, and a
plethora of art galleries with everything from famous original paintings, to
copies of posters. There was noise everywhere; there were six foot women in
stiletto heels and fake eyelashes. Suzie noticed well defined muscles, and
large Adam’s apples; she didn’t give it a second thought.
The
street seemed to take a sigh as you approached Truman Avenue. The barkers were gone, the
loud music was down the street, and the galleries were less garish. As they
strolled they could smell the delicious aromas of other people’s dinners
wafting out of the restaurants, they could hear the lively conversations
bursting out of the wine bars, and they could hear the Irish music dancing from
the patio.
They
walked up to an old white house with an out door bar adjoined to it.
“Here we are.” said Suzie, and in the
front door she walked. She turned left into the reception area while Emily
looked around. The front room was an interesting bar, with a small stage. The
people seated around the bar, all busy in their intense conversations, hardly
took notice of the two women. Emily came out and led Suzie up the stairs. The
man at the door greeted her warmly with a kiss, and said that they would have
to sit in the back, since they were almost sold out. He led them to their
seats.
The
lights went out, the music started, the spot light came on and Marilyn Monroe
took the stage. She talked and joked and sang, she came down off the stage and
teased the man in the corner table, then, with the spin of a wig, she was gone,
and Carol Channing appeared.
The
entertainment was excellent. Emily and Suzie laughed whole heartedly, until
tears rolled from their eyes. The crowd, each, looked around, making eye contact,
sharing a secret, they were laughing tonight; this man dressed as a woman was a
scream! He changed from Lucille Ball to Cher
right there on stage while he told his story. Every persona was spot on. Even
though they may return to their homes in Middle America,
and never tell a single soul about this event, they are sharing the fun
tonight. Yet, when an acquaintance back home tells them that they are going to Key West, these folks
will say, “Go to the drag show at LaTeDa!”
The
show ended. Christopher came to the back of the club and signed autographs. Emily
and Suzie waited until the crowd was almost gone to step up, “That was the most
amazing show that I have ever seen. Thank you so very much” said Emily, and she
gave him a big kiss on the cheek.
“You
know,” said Emily, “when Ben Franklin said ‘There are only two things certain
in this life, death and taxes.’ he missed something.”
“What’s
that?” asked Emily.
“Dishes,
there’s always dishes. Can’t you just see it, even before there were taxes;
someone was washing the dishes, or at least the stones or leaves that they used
for dishes.”
“You
have a weird sense of humor, Emily. You’re going to fit right in!”
” Key
West is a third white, a third black a third Hispanic and third mixed race, and
third pirates, and third rich, third homeless, a third gay, a third straight, a
third captains and the rest don’t care.”
“Tell
me more” said Emily.
“You’ll see a phantasmagoria of unique
people here. Each one has allowed themselves to be who they really are, and
love themselves. They have come here from all over the world. For many it is
the end of the road. They never fit in their home towns, and drove to the end
and stopped. There are so many people that came here just like that that each
and every one of them finds a community where they feel accepted. They feel
like they have permission to be who they want to be. ”
“I
don’t understand.” said Emily, “Why does anyone; do I need permission? From
whom would I receive this permission? Who is judging me? I am the only person with
enough depth of awareness qualified to judge me?”
“That’s
right, and that being the case, then only you can judge you, and only you can
determine if you have permission.” said Suzie. “What is acceptable to you is
different from what is acceptable to everyone else.”
Emily
thought for a moment, and said “So then boundaries must be assessed. How are
boundaries determined? Do I take the boundaries that my parents put on me as a
growing child or do I take the boundaries put on me by the government, or those
of my school, those of my community, or those that I put on others? Which
boundaries do I use to determine permission?”
Suzie
smiled, “As we grow we continue to push against boundaries until they snap, and
move to a place with more allowance. This gives permission to live in a space
which is more accepting, with more allowances. As an adult, where we can choose
the boundaries that we put on ourselves, we determine our boundaries and
permissions - permissions to let ourselves do and say actions and words the
others do or do not condone.”
“Is
that permission determined in the heart, the mind, or the soul? Do we read some
outside reference and say ‘Yes. I will allow myself to do this and that as determined
by these principles?’” Emily pondered. “There are so many ways to determine
those guidelines, from joining a cult, to allowing yourself to stumble off the
beaten path, and live in the under belly of society.”
Emily
and Suzie were walking back up Duval
Street arm in arm like best friends. “Things are
pretty quiet on the street until we get back to the 800 block. There the
‘Ladies’ are half tanked and eager to get you into their bar.” said Suzie. “The
drag shows there are pretty good there too.” As they passed the 800 block,
Emily had another look at the ladies, and looked back at Suzie with a puzzled
look on her face. Suzie smiled and
nodded, and Emily laughed at her naivety earlier.
Emily heard the music, there
was a Bull sticking through the wall, the barker gave her a two for one card as
they entered the side door, and up the stairs they went, and up again to the
roof. As she walked out on to the roof, Emily’s jaw dropped open. Everyone
there was in different stages of undress. The bartender was topless, there was
a couple dancing who were wearing only their shoes, and there were a couple of
women wearing only their thong. These people were every shape and size, from
just barely legal to over the hill and sagging. No one was leering. They were
enjoying the freedom that comes with feeling the breeze on your skin, and
dancing in the moonlight.
An
older couple stepped out of the stairway. They looked around, walking to the
edge of this roof top garden and looking over. Other people walked up to them, coaxing
them to take off their clothes. He shook his head, “No way!” She looked amused
at the idea. They both sat down on chaise longues that were there. She watched
as the other patrons danced and urged her to take off her clothes and come
dance with them.
Determination
set in her eyes. She stood up, took off all of her clothes, and danced around.
After a few minutes she went back to her place and put all her clothes back on
again, and sat down, with a satisfied look on her face.
Emily
and Suzie went over to the bar, chuckling to them selves. “What was that about”
asked Emily.
“I
guess that she wanted to prove that she had nothing to prove.” said Suzie.
Suzie
introduced Emily to the bartender, Eve, a friend from when they both worked on
one of the boats. Eve was very excited. She and her boy friend had just come up
with a wonderful new business scheme.
“Suzie,
you gotta hear this new idea Jake and I had!” Eve began. “This year at Fantasy
Fest we are going to set up a body painting booth.”
“That
isn’t a new idea” commented Suzie.
“I
know, I know, but listen. We’re going to use finger paints!” She laughed to
herself, Emily looked from Eve to Emily and back to Eve, not sure what is
happening; Suzie Smiled.
“We
get a booth of some kind, you know, a portable cabana, like the other guys do,
we get a sign, ‘Free Body Painting for Chicks’ you know, like that.”
She
was interrupted by an order for some Bud Lights; Suzie tried to quickly tell
Emily about Fantasy Fest, and the body painting, “It’s the week before
Halloween, and this town goes crazy, and a whole bunch of people are only
wearing paint.”
Eve
returned and continued her story, “So you get these hot babes to come to the
booth, you know, FREE, then you tell them that we use finger paints and that we’re
gonna auction off the privilege of being the painter to the dudes on the
street, and that if she can lure in some guys, you know, attract a good crowd,
that we’ll give her, like 25% of the take.”
“Great,
you mean some stranger is going to be rubbing finger paints on these chicks’
bodies?”
“Yeah!
You know, we’ll put some limits and boundaries in place, like only 30 seconds
on each nipple, and no going closer than the thong, we haven’t worked that out
yet. We might even negotiate with each babe what her boundaries would be, that
could make it more or less expensive. I bet those drunks would pay hundreds to
paint those babes tits. Even their own girlfriend’s tits, especially if they
were exhibitionists and the booth had an open side. I guess with those guys you
would need a time limit and a fire hose, huh?” Eve laughed, Suzie laughed, and
Emily laughed.
“This
I’d like to see!” said Suzie, “It sure sounds like something that you and Jake
could pull off; best of luck getting a permit for that!”
“Brain
storming with Eve was fun, wasn’t it?” Emily said as they returned to the
street. Suzie took Emily’s arm, and led her away from the now quiet street, and
toward the stately homes of old town.
“It
sure was!”
They
walked in silence. Suzie guided her to the harbor where the stately schooners
rocked gently at their slips. The light of the moon lit up the tall masts and the
network of rigging; all in a row, it was difficult to figure out which vessel was
which. “They are awesome.” Emily said, as she imagined what it would be like to
sail away on a vessel like one of those.
The
bars were closing, and bus boys were taking the trash to the dumpsters, as Emily
and Suzie were strolling through that wonderful old neighborhood.
“I
wonder if they’ll pull it off.” mused Emily.
“Whoa!
I’m cold. What’s this sand doing in my hair Where am I. What happened last
night? It’s still night! Where am I? Stars? Yup. Moon? Where is the moon? I see
it, way down there. Looks like its setting.
Boy, is it ever huge! OK! Where am I? What was I doing?”
“Hey!
Emily! Are you still here?” Emily heard Suzie call across the expanse of sand. “Yeah, I’m here. Where are we?”
“We
walked to the beach. You looked sleepy, so I went for some coffee. You wanted
to watch the surf. Have I been gone that long?”
“I
don’t know how long you have been gone, I have been dreaming of dancers getting
rubbed with iridescent pearls, and turning into seahorses. What’s that about?”
“Before I headed to the
coffee shop, you said that you wanted to ride a seahorse. Here, have some con
leche. “
“Boy,
this is some ride I have been going on tonight, from being on the rocks to being
on the edge of heaven.” She looked out to sea, and saw the expanse of the sky,
from horizon to horizon sparkling like time square on New Year’s. She saw the
hugest moon about to disappear in the sky and the orange glow of the new day
just below the horizon. “What a night this has been”
“How
do you feel” asked Suzie.
“Fantastic;
I feel joyful. To feel joy is fantastic!”
“How
does joy feel?”
“Like
lightness in the heart, like a bubble rising in your spirit, like a kiss from a
grand child, like hearing; ‘Grandma you are the best!’ So many things feel like
joy; gratitude and appreciation; love and touch, gentle touch.” Emily looked at
her hands. Suzie looked at her
hands too, “We reach out from our solitary perch; ‘I am alive. I am here. Do
you see me?’ We seek reflection. We know that the primary reflection is in the
mirror. Look into the mirror, see something, anything, that you like; the color
of your eyes, the shape of your ear, the curl in your hair. Look at it. Accept
that this is a part of a whole, and that whole is the one, God. Know that this is
all that there is, it is everything. Love that small thing. By loving that color
or curl, you are starting to love and accept yourself, stand alone, a part of
the one. Let that feeling grow – let it grow until you love some other part,
then another, until the whole is encompassed. This can bring peace and joy. By
allowing that love and acceptance to grow to adjacent aspects of your mirror
image and continuing to see, recognize, allow and adore each part, the
relationship to self will grow. You will soon love and accept more that that
eye color, or curl. You will gradually learn to love and accept the whole, and
therefore find joy in the self. From there you are ready to fly!”
“And,
what does that mean to you?” asked Suzie.
“It means
so much. It means that no one else cares what I do, or how I live my life. It
means that I am loved and accepted no matter what my choices are. It means that
I really don’t need any answers, no where near all of them. It means that if I
ask the right question, there still may be only the answer that I imagine. It
means that I am a part of it all, and that is.”
She
stopped, and looked out over the dark sky, with the growing glow of orange in
the east, and the shrinking disc of that full moon in the west. “It means, that
no matter what I do, that no matter what I choose, that I am a part of what is,
and my choices are important, and it doesn’t matter what they are. Boy, talk
about ironic.”
“And
what are you looking for?” asked Suzie.
“There
is only one thing worth seeking, love and joy! I guess that is two things, the
same side of the same coin, though.” Emily replied.
“I
think that you have the right idea.” said Suzie. “We are here and we are doing,
the rest is BS. There are a million yous doing a million things, look at all of
those stars, maybe one millionth of those stars have someone like you. Well, in
that infinite sky, you have all the choices and mistakes to make that anyone
could choose, and you have done it. Now you have chosen to be here, on earth,
vernal equinox 2011, on the beach in Key
West with me. We are so blessed.”
“I am
filled with such joy that it overflows. My eyes are releasing drops of joy on
to my cheeks. My heart is swelling to fill my chest. I feel almost suffocating
in love and joy. I am so blessed.” whispered Emily. “I can only thank you and all the yous that reverberate
throughout the universes. I am so happy to be here now with you.”
“Me too.” agreed Suzie.
They
were silent for a while, watching the changes, the changes in the sky, the slow
move of the stars and moon across the sky. The changes in the sea, how it
reflected the stars, how the small waves began to come out of the east, and the
sun started to make an orange crescent above the horizon; how the waves became
glassy as the wind waited, allowing a prefect reflection of the rising sun.
“This is my rising opportunity to start a new
today as a new person, the person that you really are, with a new attitude,
knowing that all of your choices have been imperative to bring you to this
point, to bring your to the point of being here now, to being at the beginning of
the growing season and of being at the beginning of growing a new choice, a
choice for joy.” said Emily.
“I
get to re-imagine my life, to create the life that I would prefer, and to have
new memories that overwhelm those carved into my history by the shock of
trauma? That might seem a daunting task. I can retrace all those traumatic
events, and then change the events to be life sustaining, instead of life
denying; instead of an event that leads to caving in on oneself, making
something to celebrate; I want to celebrate each stumbling block as a stepping
stone, and create a path to wholeness. Is that is my assignment?”
“Would
you like to have that as an assignment?” Suzie asked.
"It’s
comforting to have an assignment that can give my life purpose.”
That
day, Emily wrote in her journal:
The world spins like the hands on a clock,
always tuning. Days turn into months; months turn into years; years turn into
centuries, and so on. Our lives play out in a similar manner, as we go round
and round, through the stages of being, passing landmarks and opportunities. If
we don’t learn a lesson on the first time it passes, we will have another
chance, just wait. The next opportunity is just a moment away. We can carry
repeating opportunities with us in our memories.
If you keep the lesson present, then
the choices to learn continue to repeat in a moment to moment basis. We each
know and recognize those lessons, the ones that we believe – if I change this,
I will be happier.
Is the lesson instead, to learn to
accept that certain choices are who you are, and accept that the lesson is
learned, and yet – continue the behaviour. Perhaps that is why these choices
grate on us so repeatedly; the lesson is not to change, but to accept. And is
that lesson any easier?
Do I choose to pursue those questions
now? Do I choose to pursue change vs. acceptance now? Would that be an easier
exploration? Yes. Maybe the choice is to accept that change is innate, that
change is constant and that acceptance allows the changes to occur naturally,
as our days turn into months. We cannot force the hands of the clock to move
any faster, we cannot move the sun across the sky any faster. Why would we want
to? We cannot change ourselves any faster either. We must take each step along
the path to get to our destination.
The
world turns, as we spiral through our days, not noticing the patterns we create
to numb ourselves to the hum drum. Days roll one into the next. The start of
spring 2011 was different for Emily.
Evening
found her back on the same beach, walking pensively, noticing the birds
overhead, hearing them call to each other. She looked at the water, the tide
was low, she knew that slack tide would be soon, and the water would return,
bringing the cycle of the tidal flow back to wash the shore again. As she
approached the breakwater, she looked up, and saw the silhouette of someone on
the rocks.
“Hi,
are you here to watch the sunset?” she called.
