Episode 86: Fear & Loathing in The Berkshires
I sat on my floor, which you will notice is a theme. ALIENS!!! GUNS!!! A HIGH-POWERED DYSON VACUUM!!! THE HORRORS!!! God dam that’s a hot mess, that’s a dumpster fire… THE MORTIFYING ORDEAL OF BEING KNOWN or THE FAMILIAR COMFORT OF COMPLACENCY?!?! SPLAT!!! Bad Poetry!!! MY EX!!! WHAT IF?!?! & like really? brain? This is the channel we are going to be on? Um, how about, no.
Excerpt 1:
And I will tell you about the dance hall, and I will tell you about the perfect moments because I want more of them. I want to focus on them so I can feel them fully so that I can love them fully. Because somewhere somewhere out there is the life I desire waiting for me and all I have to do is reach out and taste it. Because energy goes where attention flows, and what we focus on expands, and if it’s meant to be you can’t fuck it up right? So maybe it is that I am changing, and these are just growing pains. And the more I focus on the good and the god and the gentle touch of the sun pouring through my windows onto the sink in the kitchen the more I will notice life’s incredible invincible beauty.
Someone said to me once, enjoy the silence. Here now while you can. Sit alone with yourself for now. You will miss this in the future when the children are running around the house and your life is full and loud and chaotic and you’ve shared a bed with someone for 600 days and nights and then you will remember there was a calm before the storm. You are here. The calm before the storm. And lightning might, if you let it, strike twice. Love is not a moving target, it is inside of you. Be it, and let the beacon shine. You are ready, for the next chapter. And who knows, it could be better.
On the whiteboard next to my desk I have a question. It says, WHAT IF?
Because I have to remember, I have to remember to ask myself. What if? What if your friends secretly love you so much more than you could imagine, what if that same person you miss misses you? What if you can have everything you desire? What if the universe is covertly conspiring in your favor? What if it’s better? What if it’s better?
Excerpt 2:
I walk into the kitchen.
It is good, and god, and there are bowls on the counter. Red currants in a blue paper basket.
The last of the chanterelles in a now dirty cast iron on the stove.
The spices are open.
The crickets outside calling to each other.
I sit on the floor.
Leave the mess for another moment.
I am imperfect.
Like the green beans falling out of the miniature pan on the stove.
A sign reads: the food from this kitchen is seasoned with love.
It’s 3:17 am again.
And the lonely creeps in like a sparrow to the window bird feeder at dawn.
Willow curls up in the chair beside the kitchen.
I am imperfect, and I am trying.
There is a vase on the ledge of the window above the sink. I made it with my bare hands. It is the best of me, wood-fired, burnished tan, it has sunflowers in it.
And the lonely is louder than I imagined.
And the pepper grinder sits unceremoniously atop the cutting board.
Because life is lived here.
Dinners plates are empty and dirty and sitting by the sink.
Maybe I’ll clean it all. But why not leave it dirty?
Like the mess of me, clothes shoved in a suitcase, enough baggage for a hundred storage rooms.
Why not leave it untouched?
Maybe by the time the currants decompose into the wood of the cutting board, I will finally be standing here with an ounce of faith.
A dropper full of understanding.
30 milliliters of love, that elusive ingredient, the one that says wrap your arms around me in the kitchen, devour me whole. Take me with the dishes. Between the pepper and the green beans. Lay me down on the sheepskin on the floor and leave the mess for tomorrow. Because I have finally figured it out,
I am imperfect, and I am trying.
