February 1, 2012 (dead of Winter, Texas style)
55 degrees and foggy-at least a dozen coyotes are howling and barking just across the river in the light of a full moon. Eerie and wonderful. I lay here wondering if my grandchildren who are still dancing around in heaven as we speak, will have the privilege of hearing these wild dogs in the wild Texas night?
I'll tell you, whoever you are that might be digging through the endless volumes I have written and have somehow lit upon this passage, I'll tell you this....
Sometimes the only door I can find is to write; to bear down into what laden my heart in bondage and just write.
Who the hell knows what any of this means; this one life; this brief flash that is MY life. Solomon had it SO right...."Nothing means anything". I have spent so many days trying to dig out the meaning of it all...find the root of the root and the core of the core. I have howled at life just like those dogs are baying. Tipped my head back and sent the heavens my screeching from the pit of my stomach and the bottom of my feet. Nosed around in the ground of it; brushed against every tree and rock that was my search for meaning. When meaning came, it was in a glimpse or a soft murmur; no trumpets or huge flashes of truth, but instead riddle after absurd, crazy riddle. Usually my only confirmation of having found another clue was a rush of odd knowing. A long exhale.
In the meantime life has happened; the years have fallen away like leaves in the wind.
If this were it, if I finished this last page and laid my old head down to die, what parts of my life would I gather up in my heart and pronounce significant? What memories would I take in my one-allowed carry on?
A sunset on my bike on Arcadia Loop as I rode to get a coke and a bag of salted peanuts alone when I was 12.
Swimming in the rapids below my house: floating there on my back, with only my nose above water, the swirls of water obscuring my vision.
Dancing close under the stars and strands of lights swaying in the Texas summer breeze with a sweet cowboy.
Holding Benjie, and later Bailey, and Ollie, and Henry when I was so lonely my very heart threatened to burst.
Listening to Emmylou belt out TULSA QUEEN, feeling the chills run through me like an electric current.
Every vista I saw when I topped a hill on a hike.
That sudden pierce of wonder when I looked at a new piece of art and was again amazed that someone actually thought to do that!
Holding my Master's Degree in my hand and rereading it so many times because I just couldn't believe I did it.
The rhythmic sound of my scuba regulator, as I sucked cold, dry air into my lungs gliding in deep places.
My husband's golden skin and perfect arms.
How every single thing in my life changed the moment I held Chris for the first time.
The little mole on his bald head.
Feeling Mackenzie move inside me for the first time, then move in synchrony with me for 5 more months. The utter synchrony of us.
The absolute selfish hunger I felt when Ian and I had our days alone together, little fists full of feathers, rocks, and other magical treasures. His deep sleepy hugs.
Being a Mother and a wife.
Those moments doing therapy when I knew YOU were leading me, compelling me to speak, or be silent.
Moments of seeing change.
Birds
Really seeing them.
Kayaking.
Music. And the sharing of it with other mystics; feeling the truth of GOD in it.
Em-my soul companion, sister, friend.
Thinking a new thought and marinating in the vast notions of science, philosophy and literature.
Falling in love again and again with authors, poets, artists and rebels.
Poetry that always pierced me with the knowledge of eternal humanity.
Pitching my head back in laughter with Irene, Sandra, Sonny, Nita, and my kids.
Feeling focused when I am creating.
Loving someone, felling that moment of being loved too.
