On my flight to Bama, I met “Tiffany,” –a little southern bell from Ozark. I felt her staring at me while I read, waiting to get on the plane. Like all true southern women, Tiffany did not care that I was reading, nor did she get the hint that I was not interested in any type of conversation—verbal or non-verbal. When I refused to accept her very clever attention giving body language, she became inpatient and jumped right in. I could already tell that Tiffany is used to getting people’s attention.
“HAY, I liiiike your boots”
“Thanks”
“Your hair is so pretty too”
“Thanks”
Aaaaaaaaaand silence…but the stare continued…
Once aboard, it was open seating. I could hear Tiffany’s voice coming down the very long isle of the very large plane. I stuck my head as far as I could into my book. I had even kept my sunglasses on all morning long and in the terminal as to avoid any eye contact with anything breathing; specifically all the “Tiffanys” that would be flying from Kentucky into southern alabama.
She was talking Alabama football and cooing at every baby she passed. I had to admit she was a crowd pleaser. People enjoyed her genuinely honey sweet accent with a hint of redneck and her big smile that she used to tease and generously hand out compliments to anyone making eye contact with her.
What happens next is inevitable. I had already accepted it when she told me she liked my boots.
“Can IIII sit here? You don’t mind do you?”
“Of course not”
I try to turn back to my book giving every polite sign that this early flight was not one in which I wanted to hear about her boyfriend or step-baby or grandma or where she was going or whether I thought Alabama was going to have a good season…but clearly, this did not matter to her.
“So I brought a People magazine. I bet you like those. You look like you would like this stuff. You look like a movie star with your big glasses and boots and your fancy hair. Where are you from? Why in the world are you going to Alabama? You don’t look like you’re from Alabama”
really…really?? I just wanted to read my book. I purchased this book over a month ago. I’ve been waiting to be on vacation where I could read this book guilt free without any late paperwork being held over my head that I should be doing instead.
I dodged and answered in the most polite way I could.
“Why thank you. I do enjoy People magazine. I grew up in Alabama and my grandparents live here so I’m spending the holidays with them this year. I’m actually from Lexington.”
“Lexington, KY??? Why I have some family in Lexington…”
of course you do, I thought, they probably live right next door to me...
she flips through her magazine, gasping for air in the most dramatic inhale I have ever heard, aside from my grandmother when she hears a movie star say “God damn.”
“Look, riiiiight here…it’s your book you’re reading. They say it’s a top 10 best seller. What is it about? Should I read it? Do you like it so far?”
Okay, from sizing up Tiffany thus far, I would say this: Tiffany would not be able to handle this book without it shaking the very core of everything she believes about God and the world and sucky people. I say this only because…I am a recovering-Tiffany.
“You know, it’s a hard book to read. You probably don’t want to read it over Christmas. It’s kind of sad and talks about life in a different country and how hard it is.”
“Yeah, it’s hard enough in my own life sometimes. I don’t think I would want to read something like that.”
There was some ignorant truth in this statement. I admired her for it a bit or maybe I was just jealous that she allowed herself to find peace in her naivety.
Tiffany, who is 26 years old, began telling me her life story, literally, which would be too long to explain, but we conversed to the point of talking about everything in her life to “why a pretty girl like me isn’t married” and how she used to like Brittany Spears but she doesn’t anymore because of her poor morals and the fact that she doesn’t even claim she is a Christian these days and “can you believe her little sister is pregnant? Bless her little heart.”
....and so forth and so on until the plane hit the ground ubrubptly and in the midst of our conversation and Tiffany proclaimed, "Well that never get's old now does it. I hate to fly but I didn't want to say anything because I thought maybe you might be afraid to fly too...and well, two scared people in the same seat...well that could have been a whole heap of trouble" I couldn't have agreed with her more. Maybe Tiffany was much smarter than I gave her credit.
Once off the plane I couldn’t find my glasses and had to dig deep in my purse to search. Apparently, I had taken them off at some point in the conversation, sucked in by Tiffany’s contagious and entertaining spirit. I was exhausted…but not so much in a bad way.
The thing is…she totally won me over…pulled me out of a sleepy and emotionally recovering funk from the night before…she poured a little sunshine over me before giving me a big ole hug and asking me to tell me grandparents “merry Christmas” for her.
Maybe I was a little bit disappointed that I would never bump into her again. I am always very aware of those clear moments when you already miss the person you will never see again and that you will always remember even though you are still in their presense...it's like a present-nostalgia. We parted ways with two very mutual smiles and a bit more Christmas spirit in our souls.
I want to be more like Tiffany.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
xmas 07 no christmas dreamland
The night before I was supposed to leave for home for the holidays, I couldn’t stomach the 13-hour drive I had planned, so I purchased a plane ticket, reserved a rental car, came home early, and tried to sleep. For the first time in months, I was very awake, very aware that I needed to sleep, and very aware of my emotions that I have kept under quite a tight reign lately.
One Gazillion thoughts were racing through my head, none of which I wanted to be there. Sleep came lightly but rest was non-existent. Somewhere in between deep breathing and visualizing myself on a beach, I drifted into dreamland where I proceeded to have an affair with my best friend’s husband. This sent me sitting straight up in bed, sweating, and heart pounding.
Next, I dreamt of my first love in college. A three-year relationship in which I enjoyed very much, still having butterflies when he walked into the room or ran onto the court until the day he walked out of my apartment with his things. I still think of him fondly. In my dream, I could not find my basketball shoes and I was frantic to find them or else coach refused to let me play. The dream setting was in my high school gym and I ran to the boy’s locker room to ask if anyone had seen them. Danny opens the door. My heart pounded. He was in a red uniform, dark hair and skin. He was holding a baby, his new baby. The baby was beautiful, just like him and his wife. I woke up gasping for air…I’m not sure why.
Next dream was about my father and mother. Hard times. No fun. The dream disturbed me so. When I awoke, I was crying, which is very odd if anyone has had this experience. My new philosophy is that the more you break down the easier it becomes…so if you have to--then do it fast. Lingering in that emotion can drown you in your own tears…so I cleared up immediately, and felt very proud of myself.
I asked God to let me sleep.
Lastly, I dreamt of my last heart wrenching love. It felt so very bizarre and real and it felt the exact same as it did a year ago without all the hurt and anger and annoyance and drama separating us over the last forever months. By this point in my sleep, I recognized it as a dream and fought to wake myself up to avoid this phony feeling.
I received a text that woke me up at 4:16am
And I am awake
Awake for two days straight actually, without the help of any drugs or caffeine.
Just soulful energy I suppose.
Merry Christmas to me.
One Gazillion thoughts were racing through my head, none of which I wanted to be there. Sleep came lightly but rest was non-existent. Somewhere in between deep breathing and visualizing myself on a beach, I drifted into dreamland where I proceeded to have an affair with my best friend’s husband. This sent me sitting straight up in bed, sweating, and heart pounding.
Next, I dreamt of my first love in college. A three-year relationship in which I enjoyed very much, still having butterflies when he walked into the room or ran onto the court until the day he walked out of my apartment with his things. I still think of him fondly. In my dream, I could not find my basketball shoes and I was frantic to find them or else coach refused to let me play. The dream setting was in my high school gym and I ran to the boy’s locker room to ask if anyone had seen them. Danny opens the door. My heart pounded. He was in a red uniform, dark hair and skin. He was holding a baby, his new baby. The baby was beautiful, just like him and his wife. I woke up gasping for air…I’m not sure why.
Next dream was about my father and mother. Hard times. No fun. The dream disturbed me so. When I awoke, I was crying, which is very odd if anyone has had this experience. My new philosophy is that the more you break down the easier it becomes…so if you have to--then do it fast. Lingering in that emotion can drown you in your own tears…so I cleared up immediately, and felt very proud of myself.
I asked God to let me sleep.
Lastly, I dreamt of my last heart wrenching love. It felt so very bizarre and real and it felt the exact same as it did a year ago without all the hurt and anger and annoyance and drama separating us over the last forever months. By this point in my sleep, I recognized it as a dream and fought to wake myself up to avoid this phony feeling.
I received a text that woke me up at 4:16am
And I am awake
Awake for two days straight actually, without the help of any drugs or caffeine.
Just soulful energy I suppose.
Merry Christmas to me.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
I AM THANKFUL I AM THANKFUL I AM THANKFUL
If i could write...make sense of the whirlwind of life that has happened to me in the last 2 months...if i could explain the extent of growth and happiness that has happened in my life...i would do it...but to contextualize it into words has been incredibly challenging. There are nights i stay up half the night thinking and scribbling and thinking and scribbling with so much energy stirring in my mind and soul that i can't relax...and no matter how many times i have opened my journal to write...the same thing always bleeds through on the paper and then i am overwhelmed with the completion of my writing...that being...
"I AM THANKFUL...I AM THANKFUL...I AM THANKFUL"
but...there's soooo much more...there's so much more to say and write and express and sing out and dance to big and loudly...but i can't seem to get it on paper...so, i must trust that it's not ready... or i'm not ready to get it out...but I soo am...i am bursting with light...in the midst of the last few months of the shittiest and grueling happenings of my life in the last decade...I am revived and strengthened...I have no idea with whom or what to give this credit too...maybe God...maybe the universe... maybe myself...i can not say...but what i can say is....I AM THANKFUL....I AM THANKFUL..I AM THANKFUL...
healing and peace
below, the most powerful passages in which i have connected with so emotionally that i have literally sat alone in utter silence, for minutes/maybe hours...time seemed nonexistent... feeling the hole in my chest begin to repair and fill up again.
________________________________________________________________
I don't want anyone to talk to me. I can't tolerate anyone's face right now. I even manage to dodge Richard for a while but he finds me at dinner and sits down---brave man---in my black smoke of self-loathing.
"What's got you all wadded up?"
"Don't ask" I say, but then I start talking and telling him every bit of it concluding with, "And worst of all, I can't stop obsessing over him. I thought I was over it, but it's all coming up again."
He says, "Give it another six months, you'll feel better"
"I've already given it 12"
"Then give it another six more, Just keep throwing six months at it till it goes away. Stuff like this takes time...Listen, someday your gonna look back on this moment in your life as such a sweet time of grieving. You'll see that you were in mourning and your heart was broken, but your life was changing and you were in the best possible place in the world for it. In a beautiful place of worship, surrounded by grace. Take this time, every minute of it. Let things work themselves out."
"But I really loved him"
"Big deal. So you fell in love with someone. Don't you see what happened. This guy touched a place in your heart deeper than you thought you were capable of reaching. I mean you got zapped. But that love you felt, it's just the beginning. You just got a taste of love..."
"Please don't laugh at me now, but the reason I think it's so hard for me is that I seriously believed he was my soul mate."
"He probably was. Your problem is you don't understand what that word means. People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that you are holding back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with your soul mate forever? Nah, too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave. And thank God for it. Your problem is, you just can't let this one go. It's over. His purpose was to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light could get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you had to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master and beat it. That was his job. Problem is, you can't except the relationship had a short shelf life.
"But I love him"
"So love him"
"But I miss him"
"So miss him. Send him so love and light every time you think about him, then drop it. You're just afraid to let go of the lasts bits of him because then you'll really be alone. And YOU are scared to death of what will happen if you are really alone. But here's what you gotta understand. If you clear all that space in your mind that you're using right now to obsess about this guy, you'll have a vacuum there, and open spot---a door in ---God will rush in---and fill you with more love than you ever dreamed. So stop using him to block that door. Let it go"
_________________________________________________________________
Most of humanity, the Buddha said, have eyes that are so caked shut with deception they will never see the truth, no matter who tries to tell them. A few others are so naturally clear-eyed and calm already that they need no instruction of assistance whatsoever. But then there are those whose eyes are just slightly caked with dust, and who might, with the help of the right master, be taught to see more clearly someday. The Buddha decided he would become a teacher for the benefit of that minority---"for those of little dust."
I clearly hope that I am one of these mid-level dust-caked people, but I don't know. I only know that I have been driven to find inner peace with methods that might seem a bit drastic for the general populace...
I don't know if I have much of a choice though. I have searched frantically for so many years and so many ways, and all these acquisitions and accomplishments--they run you down in the end. Life, if you keep chasing it so hard, will drive you to death. Time, when pursued like a bandit---will behave like one; always remaining one county or one room ahead of you, changing its name and hair color to elude you, slipping out the back door of the motel just as you're banging through with your newest search warrant, leaving only an ashtray to taunt you.
At some point, you have to stop because it wont. You have to admit that you can't catch it. That you're not supposed to catch it. At some point, you gotta let go, sit still, and allow contentment to come to you.
Letting go, of course, is a scary enterprise for those of us who believe that the world revolves only because it has a handle on the top of it which we personally turn, and that if we were to drop that handle for even a moment, well--that would be the end of the universe.
But try dropping it. This is the message I'm getting. Sit quietly for now and cease your relentless participation. Watch what happens. The birds do not crash dead out of the sky in mid-flight after all. The trees do not wither and die, the rivers do not run red with blood. Life continues to go on...why are you so sure that your micromanagement of every moment in this whole world is essential? Why don't you just let it be?
I hear this argument and it appeals to me. I believe in it, intellectually. I really do. But then I wonder--with all my restless yearning, with all my hyped-up fervor and with this stupidly hungry nature of mine--what should I do with my energy, instead?
That answer arrives, too:
Look for God. Look for God like a man with his head on fire looks for water.
_________________________________________________________________
~Both passages: Eat, Pray, Love-Elizabeth Gilbert~
"I AM THANKFUL...I AM THANKFUL...I AM THANKFUL"
but...there's soooo much more...there's so much more to say and write and express and sing out and dance to big and loudly...but i can't seem to get it on paper...so, i must trust that it's not ready... or i'm not ready to get it out...but I soo am...i am bursting with light...in the midst of the last few months of the shittiest and grueling happenings of my life in the last decade...I am revived and strengthened...I have no idea with whom or what to give this credit too...maybe God...maybe the universe... maybe myself...i can not say...but what i can say is....I AM THANKFUL....I AM THANKFUL..I AM THANKFUL...
healing and peace
below, the most powerful passages in which i have connected with so emotionally that i have literally sat alone in utter silence, for minutes/maybe hours...time seemed nonexistent... feeling the hole in my chest begin to repair and fill up again.
________________________________________________________________
I don't want anyone to talk to me. I can't tolerate anyone's face right now. I even manage to dodge Richard for a while but he finds me at dinner and sits down---brave man---in my black smoke of self-loathing.
"What's got you all wadded up?"
"Don't ask" I say, but then I start talking and telling him every bit of it concluding with, "And worst of all, I can't stop obsessing over him. I thought I was over it, but it's all coming up again."
He says, "Give it another six months, you'll feel better"
"I've already given it 12"
"Then give it another six more, Just keep throwing six months at it till it goes away. Stuff like this takes time...Listen, someday your gonna look back on this moment in your life as such a sweet time of grieving. You'll see that you were in mourning and your heart was broken, but your life was changing and you were in the best possible place in the world for it. In a beautiful place of worship, surrounded by grace. Take this time, every minute of it. Let things work themselves out."
"But I really loved him"
"Big deal. So you fell in love with someone. Don't you see what happened. This guy touched a place in your heart deeper than you thought you were capable of reaching. I mean you got zapped. But that love you felt, it's just the beginning. You just got a taste of love..."
"Please don't laugh at me now, but the reason I think it's so hard for me is that I seriously believed he was my soul mate."
"He probably was. Your problem is you don't understand what that word means. People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that you are holding back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with your soul mate forever? Nah, too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave. And thank God for it. Your problem is, you just can't let this one go. It's over. His purpose was to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light could get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you had to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master and beat it. That was his job. Problem is, you can't except the relationship had a short shelf life.
"But I love him"
"So love him"
"But I miss him"
"So miss him. Send him so love and light every time you think about him, then drop it. You're just afraid to let go of the lasts bits of him because then you'll really be alone. And YOU are scared to death of what will happen if you are really alone. But here's what you gotta understand. If you clear all that space in your mind that you're using right now to obsess about this guy, you'll have a vacuum there, and open spot---a door in ---God will rush in---and fill you with more love than you ever dreamed. So stop using him to block that door. Let it go"
_________________________________________________________________
Most of humanity, the Buddha said, have eyes that are so caked shut with deception they will never see the truth, no matter who tries to tell them. A few others are so naturally clear-eyed and calm already that they need no instruction of assistance whatsoever. But then there are those whose eyes are just slightly caked with dust, and who might, with the help of the right master, be taught to see more clearly someday. The Buddha decided he would become a teacher for the benefit of that minority---"for those of little dust."
I clearly hope that I am one of these mid-level dust-caked people, but I don't know. I only know that I have been driven to find inner peace with methods that might seem a bit drastic for the general populace...
I don't know if I have much of a choice though. I have searched frantically for so many years and so many ways, and all these acquisitions and accomplishments--they run you down in the end. Life, if you keep chasing it so hard, will drive you to death. Time, when pursued like a bandit---will behave like one; always remaining one county or one room ahead of you, changing its name and hair color to elude you, slipping out the back door of the motel just as you're banging through with your newest search warrant, leaving only an ashtray to taunt you.
At some point, you have to stop because it wont. You have to admit that you can't catch it. That you're not supposed to catch it. At some point, you gotta let go, sit still, and allow contentment to come to you.
Letting go, of course, is a scary enterprise for those of us who believe that the world revolves only because it has a handle on the top of it which we personally turn, and that if we were to drop that handle for even a moment, well--that would be the end of the universe.
But try dropping it. This is the message I'm getting. Sit quietly for now and cease your relentless participation. Watch what happens. The birds do not crash dead out of the sky in mid-flight after all. The trees do not wither and die, the rivers do not run red with blood. Life continues to go on...why are you so sure that your micromanagement of every moment in this whole world is essential? Why don't you just let it be?
I hear this argument and it appeals to me. I believe in it, intellectually. I really do. But then I wonder--with all my restless yearning, with all my hyped-up fervor and with this stupidly hungry nature of mine--what should I do with my energy, instead?
That answer arrives, too:
Look for God. Look for God like a man with his head on fire looks for water.
_________________________________________________________________
~Both passages: Eat, Pray, Love-Elizabeth Gilbert~
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