The abundance of being alive

I didn't expect much of this garden after the first set of tomatoes more or less bit the dust and most of the carrots and onions didn't bother to do much of anything and the cucumbers turned out round and orange and the squash rotted on the vine and Audrey the pumpkin got out of hand and I did my best just to breathe because that's what brought me here in the first place.

The need to breathe.

I am alone today and tomorrow and two more sleeps after that (not in the car, CG, but I do think of it that way because it is hard to imagine any world that does not have he and me in it together) and I am the epitome of uncomfortable. I have not been alone other than for just one night since I came out of the hospital on Valentine's Day blinking into the sunlight and wondering how it got to be so hard to walk outside in the world. A few of you will know what I mean when I say that the world inverted in on itself and I walked around like some crunched up easter egg rolling off the edge of the universe. I miss MC most times like these because she knew too and it's hard to explain if you haven't had the top of your head come off because words don't come anywhere near doing it justice. It's just a state of being too far off the map for speech. Which might be part of the problem, this need to explain something that probably cannot be said in words. Just breath, maybe. And I'll tell you, neither therapist I've been intimate with for six months could even begin to navigate this paragraph. I just go and write the checks and come home because I am still a good girl in my little compartmentalized ways.

And if it is a good day it's all good and I do what I do and I am satisfied that I have a place in the world. And if it is a bad day I come home and crawl into Beloved's arms and find some amount of peace there. And if it is a very, very bad day and I scream and rail at the world he finds a way, most times, to bring me home again.

He's not here.

I am OK but OK and uncomfortable are coexisting which is a step or two in the right direction. I was never afraid like this. OK, once, when I was pregnant with my boy and I thought about how I would feel if my husband died and I thought, well I have this boy inside me (I knew) and as long as I can get him born all right I will have a piece of something to get me by. I have always struggled with being alone in the world and hold on with all my might when I find a place to put my heart.

And now, really for the first time, I hold on with all my might when I decide to be safe outside my own four walls. I cried last night and fretted up one side and down the other for weeks and finally worked out that none of this was about being alone for four days. It is about being alone forever.

Eighteen months ago we all went to this conference. Eighteen months ago I held Jeffrey's hand and we found an old friend and he confessed to a ten year crush and she blushed and he did and it balanced something and we moved on. We went to dinner, Nomans and Jeffrey and me and another friend who matters like air and is hardly seen at all these days and ate Tapas and drank Sangria except Jeffrey who was still trying to say alive. And we were together and we were happy.

And Jeffrey is dead and NoMans is in San Francisco and I couldn't bear to go without Jeffrey this year even if we hadn't suspended all travel and I didn't want to leave the girls alone for that long with just the nanny. And I know that not all rats bite but I am so very, very afraid that he will not come back the same way that Jeffrey just did not come back and I have no idea how I would even begin to bear that.

Sometimes there are land mines and sometimes there are craters and I'm sitting in one now but I think I can see the end of the other side and I can get there on my own. And that's a good thing.

Comments

[Jerry Critter]

Yes, you can see the other side, and it is getting closer every minute. You will be climbing out before you know it.

[madcap]

I'm still here, Alecto my deario. CG gave me a sweet nudge a few weeks ago. I'm still mostly beyond words, but I think I may resurrect myself in blog form someday. I've missed you too, often think of you, wonder what your world is like inside.

[Spartacus]

Alecto... NoMans will come home and things will be better for you. I guarantee it.

[Pamela]

I hate the craters, but the other side is always there. I hope you get there soon.

[CG]

I will not try to guarantee anything beyond my own control, but I can tell you, I've been in an existential *mood* lately. Instead of the new age-y realization that we are all connected, I have the bone stark realization that we are ultimately nothing but alone. Funny but I haven't found it upsetting in any way, but rather curious, and I think it might be this inner knowingness that makes me cry at kindnesses because I realize how rarely people get outside themselves to really BE kind. Or maybe that what I view as someone being kind to me is only an accident of their own aloneness?

I know that is probably not an appropriate comment, but it is what I have in me. Spirit moves on breath. Breathe. Like thoughts in meditation, acknowledge, note, go back to breath.

I am so sorry for you about Jeffery. I'm sorry NoMans in traveling. I am so glad to have "met" you though. And I love the photograph.

[Lewis]

And some of us have an inner strength that we don't even realize. It gets us through.

And yes, you will get there on your own.

[Alecto]

Jerry - thank you, and yes I can.

MC - so happy to see you (see you?)! Well, here is some of what goes on in my head but a lot of it has been wrapped up in things that grow, lay eggs and otherwise require my attention (which is grounding).

Spartacus - thank you, and I'm feeling much less frightened lately. Might be because his flight took off and landed as expected but I've never really been afraid of flying so maybe it's just the living with it for a bit.

Pamela - thank you. It's getting better or I'm becoming more comfortable with myself, which is probably a good thing.

CG - totally appropriate. And you know I love that Einstein quote about being part of the whole and it really is a terrible paradox, this balancing act between understanding that you are one with the canyon (when you look into the abyss) and at the same time completely and utterly alone, small, infinitesimal. I think the thing about kindness is that you really do have to get outside yourself which might be part of the whole which is what makes that kindness possible. I think I have got to find a way to trust myself alone in the world or I'm probably not going to be much good to anyone, fearful and all that. I am finding it very difficult to make eye contact with people, much less say hello or allow a friendship to develop and me, with all this time in crowded public places. Somehow I believe I will be hurt and find myself running to my burrow when approached. I allowed myself to be spoken to on the train yesterday because he was awfully nice and really needed to talk about the market (he's a trader and more than likely about to discover some very hard times) and he didn't cause me any pain at all. But still.

And I am stunned over the fact that I am still stunned over the loss of Jeffrey and maybe that's all part of this too.

And I am very happy to know you.

Lewis - Yes, I'm starting to work that out. Thank you.

[Alecto]

um, one more thing... during some of this existential training I did quite awhile back I was told (and firmly believe to this day even if I can't quite get over myself and just do it) that if you want to feel better, or stop feeling bad or just get past yourself, then give yourself away. And that can look like anything as long as it is outside yourself. I remember feeling that way and the aloneness became irrelevant.

[Cielo]

I spent a lot of time growing up 'alone in the world' and became very withdrawn with respect to relationships, and also very self-reliant. Sooooooooo, losing myself and winding up behind the glass was,in one way, horribly frightening in that I couldn't rely on myself for anything. At the same time, the aloneness was distilled into its purest form, and I was comfortable. Now when I'm frightened (like these past few days in America!) I seek aloneness.

You need to come down here and hang with CG for a couple of days. She's been good medicine for me, and the three of us would probably be good medicine for each other.

[Alecto]

Oh, Cielo, that would be unbelievably wonderful. And I am becoming comfortable with myself.