 A friend from college recently shared her experience with infertility. You can read her story for yourself here. This is what I'd like to say to you, dear Lena, and to all the sufferers:
Oh, sweet angel! I wish I could absorb your pain, your sadness, your rage, your shame. I wish I could take them from you so you wouldn't have to carry such a load. And I do take them from you, sweet Lena. I allow you to pour into me as you share yourself, and I sit quietly with your feelings, letting them churn through me until they float away. But this is not enough, I know it. I know it, sweet Lena. I cannot absorb the whole kit and caboodle from your aching heart. But to think of it that way, what a shame it would be if I could. What an empty shell of a life we would all live if our experiences, "good" or "bad," could be erased in us by another. No, my love, I cannot take your pain and transform it into butterflies. Nor would I if I could. Because, as unreasonable as it sounds, it would be unfair to you to rob you of this. This bitter taste you wish you could scrape off your tongue. This unclean screen through which you see
0 Comments
 Let's order the coins
the easy way: dime, nickel, quarter, so it goes. It is not important that they are seriated one direction or the other, for forever's tentacles go both ways, and India meets the West Indies if you persevere - (Or better! Two globes occupying the same space at the same time. You are a minute person, occupying a minute spot atop these globes, as one spins as one expects, the other spins the other way, and still you find your way back home, more than once, more than twice, so often it's as if you never left, time smeared like shit in a shoe box, years (and the compartments within) may as well be boys' laps around the easy chair.) Forever means you are old and dead, your children are old and dead, our bursting star long expired. Blackness digests all objects from the space you knew, except there is no word for blackness, and even then you have only seen the first bend of the first letter of the first word of the first book of all the libraries of all the words in this world and all the worlds beyond it. About Adam Adam was my beautiful partner for 15 years. If you see him play drums, you will surely fall in love with him immediately. This is why I always loved that I didn't meet him as Drummer Adam. I met him as Ranger Adam. When I walked in to the information station in Yosemite in 2001, my girlfriends and I were looking for a day hike recommendation. When I walked out, I had stars in my eyes, because wouldn't you know it, that young man in the National Park Service uniform was mighty cute. In the years since, Adam has become even cuter. He is an active (and sometimes wonderfully sardonic) dad; he is a devourer of books, and isn't afraid to laugh out loud while reading them; he is a kind-hearted, considerate, and informed human person, and I consider myself one of the luckiest people in the world to have been able to spend so much of my life by his side. Eventually, Adam and I have both come to realize that we weren't mutually meeting each other's needs; we have therefore agreed to send each other off into the world to seek more joy, different joy. If you, gentle reader, happen to enjoy geeking out on music trivia (including drum set make, year, and materials), or if you like taking long, quiet walks in the great outdoors, or if you just enjoy the company of a good-hearted, responsible, respectful and oh-so super smart (and DREAMY!) fella, well, I hope with all my heart you find your way into his. Love Always, Evy About Evelyn Evelyn was my beautiful partner for 15 years. From nearly the first day we met (when she was a teenager!), I fell into the thrall of her abundant creativity, deadly wit, effervescent personality, and knee-weakeningly gorgeous red hair.
In addition to bringing into the world (and being a Super-Mom to) two wonderful boys, Evelyn has devoted herself to learning and exploring, constantly expanding the scope of her always-formidable intellect. From Vassar to Kobe, Merida to Bangalore, Evelyn's thirst for new experiences is a wonder to behold; it's also pretty fun to be along for the ride. Eventually, we realized that we were not mutually meeting each other's needs, and agreed to release one another to find joy elsewhere. If you're the sort of person who just LOVES to light up a room, patiently tend a garden, devotedly teach young children to read, travel the world, and maybe occasionally stick your fingers in your ears so you don't accidentally hear any Game of Thrones spoilers, I sincerely hope you find your way to her. And if you end up loving her only half as much as I do, it will still be a whole lot. Love, Adam  I am bothered by the language
of the devil. When she spoke the name Satan, she really meant it; fear rotted in her heart. Every thing I see is an expression of God Suffering does not negate the divine. The divine cannot be negated. ---on earth, as it is, ---we all must die, ---this is simply fact. ---as Marshall lay dying, ---I asked "why not ---a lesser man?" ………The BLADE of GRASS ……… roots growing, ……… growing even as ….…… children pluck them ……… out like eyes ……… or, with twisted daggers, ………churn them up by foot, ……… sweating, shooting, scoring. ……… SUDDENLY! ……… One blade of grass ……… KERSPLAT! ………"I've been chosen ……… by the sacred white moon ……… God! ……… I am chosen!" Meanwhile, ……… the golfer replaces his driver. ---Marshall's body broke first ---and in the breaking, forming ---The Mountain of Sad around it ---like a temple, as big ---as a belt of stars--- ---an immovable temple ---which we choose to enter ---or not--- thickly, ---for the sadness forms ---A true barrier, and we ---are rewarded for our ---willingness to refuse anesthetic. ---This prize, of course, delivered ---even as I come to know ---in my marrow ---The meaning of helplessness. Marshall's death – God's work, As it all is - because This spectrum was in the Contract – all bodies are Carbon bodies, and the Moon God's collection time Is unannounced, unbiased-- Which reeks of injustice, but is The truest definition of just. We choose to enter the temple. We choose to not enter the temple. God is in this freedom because God is in all things. Behold: God is All things!--- --------------your devil makes --------------A pretty whipping boy --------------but I see God in --------------The switch, the bit lip, --------------The silent swearing --------------Of whipped and whipper. God is all things, not only The flowers in bloom. God is the gardener finding The root rot (or not) and Cutting (not cutting) The rot away. God is the rot, surviving. God is the rot not surviving. Your devil can't scare me. The only demon I know in this world is the fear in her voice as she spoke of the devil.  Be in your body - you
can get there through your ears - a chainsaw, a fan saying "luego" all the night round, the vegetable man calling the names of dead edibles still vibrant from the sun they drank that morning. Your mouth can bring you in as well - "luego, luego, luego," or a paleta limon con chile or without. The skull operates like an operating room. The operators obey orders. Obedience is king. How often I repeat- I repeat myself now with joy, for it is a merry message to repeat: Come in, come in, zooming ever inward like a barbershop - Magnifying into the depths: a galaxy spinning on a baby's breath. Funny! We've been pointing cloud-ward, like birders. Zero is not the beginning of the song. It is the fulcrum in the center. |
RSS Feed