Yesterday was alarming. I woke up at 5 and couldn’t get back to sleep, as often happens these days. Exhausted, I drank mate which completely spazzed me out – I was a wreck for the whole day.
Finally I went on a walk, which was refreshing in the beautiful warm sunshine with the blossoms coming everywhere. I sat in my meadow and enjoyed the sun, the air, every detail of the grasses and flowers. Earlier I had done my meditation, and I thought, this is the moment to call Mr. Twinkle. Something I’ve been planning to do since he suggested I get that book. So I called him.
After a bit of whee-style chatting about this and that, laughing and talking, I got up my nerve.
“I got the book you recommended – the Mantak Chia book.”
“Oh, the Multiorgasmic Woman or man or couple…?”
“Yes, the couple one.”
“Isn’t it a great book?”
“Yes, and I’ve been doing some really interesting work with images...”
“…about the sexual thing… and it occurred to me that it might be interesting to do some tantric exploration together. What do you think?”
“No – no, I don’t feel that right now,” he says reflectively, “but we should hold the possibility open.”
I am crestfallen, but of course don’t want to show it. We continue talking about sex and tantra and he invites me to go to a tantra workshop – which doesn’t really intrigue me very much. Finally we hang up, me with a feeling of humiliation and embarrassment, but of course I had known that might happen.
It's not that I'm in love with the guy – but I just had to ask, since I still find him oddly attractive, even at 70. And there was the revived memory of how really gorgeous he used to be… we both used to be…
Then I get a call from my friend Jim – and he warns me that my plan to visit my tenants, to make ‘human contact’ before the System squishes them out of my existence with the eviction, might backfire. They might just get angry, thinking I am somehow trying to use them for my own emotional ends… And I see the point. And I think no, he’s right, it’s not a good idea. Who do I think I am, some angel of benevolence? Maybe I do just want to assuage my guilt for being comparatively well off, while they might even go homeless...
So I go wandering off into the beautiful afternoon in my jet lag, careful not to stumble on the sidewalk and skin my knee like I did last week in a similar fog.
I begin thinking about all my failures. Sleep being one of them. But that’s nothing compared to my unflagging attempts to possess my now dead husband and all my now grown kids, and all the vanished people I ever loved…
I walk and daydream and carefully plod homeward. I'm a few blocks away, taking one of the cul-de-sacs with the nice suburban homes and the safe empty asphalt for the children to play on, when I hear a little voice.
“Whoa! I fell down!” The voice speaks almost as if marveling in wonder – not at all upset. I turn to look.
It's a little boy, maybe five years old, with his big brother. They are on roller blades, the big boy rolling along nonchalantly, the little one just learning. The little one is wearing a huge helmet, the big one’s blond crewcut is exposed defiantly to fate. The little one is already struggling back to his feet. He stands up, wobbles forward, and his feet fly right out from under him and down he goes.
“Whoa!” he marvels a second time, “I fell down!” Just amazed at the wonderful things that happen in this interesting thing called life…
And I smile, and laugh inside me. What a lovely little messenger. That’s the attitude – that spirit of playful wonder. That’s what attracts me to Mr. Twinkle – his lightness. Maybe he’s trying too hard – imagine calling yourself “Mr. Twinkle,” after all – but he’s a work in progress on being light.
To enjoy being with him, or anyone else for that matter, one has to take life lightly, and at the same time seriously. The Sacred and the Profane in a quirky, unpredictable ever-changing mix.
And there really is nothing else you can do but bumble through, laugh, and let go…