three straight lines

death, it comes in many forms.

some wander off their path and forget the bread crumbs to help them find their way back. so once they are tired of the new way, they can't find their way back.   they are stuck with their decision.  that one decision, that one footstep in a different direction that really didn't seem so big and important at the time.  it seemed alluring, exciting and new.  but now they are left with the realization that they will never go back to that old path.  they mourn or they become angry or apathetic and return to the place they never really wanted to be but was just curious about.  they never knew once a line was crossed that the door closed forever.

it brings to mind the original version of Willy Wonka when he yells half heartedly,  "wait, stop, don't do it".  with an odd smile on his face.   i have wondered about that face all my life until i finally grew up and realized that that small little clip says more about human nature than perhaps most people see.   it tricks you,  you think he is bad or sadistic or nuts.   (i still think he is nuts but it has nothing to do with his ability to recognize true human nature).   he knew no matter how loud his voice was it wouldn't matter because human nature is stronger than a loud voice,  a pleading woman on her knees or an ambulance to take away the person before they do something so bad that they can't find their way back to their own footstep on their original path.

i had a boyfriend in high school named P.  he had anger issues.  (funny that i keep picking those types).  the first time i went to his apartment there were pictures of him and another girl on his walls.  i asked, of course, who this was.  he told me it was A.   i asked, are you still in love with her, are you dating her as well as me?  he got quiet,  "she's dead."  he said.  "we were in a fight driving down the freeway and i lost control of the car and hit the light pole going about 80mph".  it was my turn to be quiet. finally,  "i'm sorry."  i said, as her eyes stared back at me and his stared at the ground.

we dated for a while until i couldn't take the anger and the bruises anymore.  one night before it ended, he looked at me and said,  "we were supposed to go together, me and A, you know?"   his voice began to quiver,  she screamed at me while we were driving and said that she loved me but she couldn't take it anymore.   so i cranked the wheel...  i started to turn to walk away.  he said, sobbing.  nobody knows. they all think it was an accident.   i looked back over my shoulder and said, "it was."

i never spoke with him again, nor did i dig up already settled grief.  it had already been 2 years since that happened.  ghosts sometimes do not want to be bothered.   a few months later i was sitting with a mutual friend of our and in the middle of a bite of my Wendy's burger, R says, "oh did you hear?  P killed himself a few weeks ago."  

later that night i was thinking again about Willy Wonka.  "wait, stop, don't do it".  and i swear that odd look came over my face, just like his.  was it bad, sadistic or nuts?  or was i just recognizing human nature.  i don't know, it was in the '70s.  i did go to his grave site a few years later.  i just stood there.  i did notice that he had forgotten to leave any bread crumbs leading outside the cemetery gate. 

it really takes just one footstep off the path.

just human nature?



who is it?  who was Carly Simon singing about?  the song was released sometime in "72 and there has been speculation about it ever since.   if the perfect song about human nature exists, this is it. it is an "in your face" kind of song, yet it is shrouded in ambiguity.  perfect!  everyone who knew her was yearning and stretching to fit themselves or people they may know as the subject of the song.  those who decided it was about them were plunged into self denial (I'M NOT VAIN!) , anger or oddly, a sense of importance in her life.  "at least she is talking about me so she must be thinking about me.  she must still feel a connection to me".  yet, in that moment, that very thought  shows the vanity that exists. 

all songs are born of some emotion felt by life experiences,  most are clever or subtle or humor is used to buffer the message.  one of my personal funny favorite words are  "let me hold your crown, babe".  it makes me grin every time i hear it.   why do i smile?  because it rings true for me in some place in my life both about people i have known and myself in moments of over self importance.   many of us, if not all of us, find ourselves in lyrics or poetry or some other outside form.  perhaps we are seeking a connection or vindication.  we want to think we are important somewhere and if our feelings are echoed somewhere from someone else we feel less alone.  its like looking at the first footprint on the moon.  it is irrefutable proof that Armstrong was the one (unless you are into conspiracy theories).  

we try to find our footprint everywhere we go.  in our relationships, in our work, in others words or actions.  we lean into conversations or strike them up in order to mine out bits of ourselves.   some of us are willing to stretch the truth or the meaning in order to make it fit.   (mental imagine of square peg, round hole syndrome) or an overblown sense of importance, or expectation that you must be important enough for you to keep popping up in other's daily thoughts and doings.

if you read any comprehsive  book on mental illness, you will find that characteristic listed in several different diagnosis'.  but i think, putting aside mental illness, it is human nature to try to find outselves outside of ourselves.  we want to think we left a footprint, an impression, an emotion even if it is a negative one.  we all want to be remembered in one way or another and sometimes we will settle for a bad impression over no impression.   stepping back from that statement we cringe in horror to think we would do that to ourselves but we are all yearning for the footprint and we are all yearning to be remembered.

even as i post this,  i am an example of vanity.

an evening with Virginia Woolf

i have had a long standing love affair with Virginia Woolf.   she was elegant and thoughtful.  she provokes thought within me. she is sometimes a mirror that reflects my image back at me and sometimes a window to gaze out at the world around me.  we had a good night together last night.  a reunion of kindred spirits, of teacher and student, within my book, dog earred with a well worn spine.  she begins her writing of a Room of One's Own talking about words and their meanings after being asked to write about women and fiction.  she couldn't address it head on because she was not a head on type of person.  she was like a tree,  solid roots but branching off into the sky reaching for so many other ways to express her thoughts.  some branches twisted, contorted, perhaps painfully but always still reaching for the sunlight, for more, one more word that will be the perfect word.  fancinating.  so Virginia sat beside me last night and i talked to her...

words seem to be flying around me.  not like butterflies softly lighting on my shoulder but as if i am carrion.  each diving in to tear a small piece of flesh from my body.

i have come to the conclusion that people are cruel.   some are intentionally cruel.  instead of working through their disappointment or disillusionment with the world around them and letting go of the burden that always comes with anger and hurt, they carry it around like a prized possession, a trophy, a permission slip to be caustic.  or like a cow,  throwing up previous eaten food to chew it all over again instead of feeding blissfully from greener pastures.

there are those people who are accidentally cruel.  they react to situations which they are unable to think through before doing a hurtful thing.

there are those, who in my opinion, are some of the most irritating people to exist.  the apathetic.  the silent ones.  the people, for whatever reason, do not utter a word when the vultures attack.  they sit safely within the frenzy, not wanting to voice their objections to blantant hatred and bullying.  they value being with the crowd over speaking up and perhaps leaving themselves open to becoming carrion as well.

all of these catagories have one thing in common.  they are all just human nature.  no matter how much i shake my head in disappointment at the deliberate, accidental or apathetic actions of others,  i know that at one time or another i too have fallen into these catagories,  i know that there is nothing anyone can do to change inate human nature.  i always do hope however, that we all want to grow to a higher place in our evolution, to reach the next tier on the Hierachy of Needs.  i always hope that we want to be better people.  i always want to believe that everyone wakes up every day striving to be honest with themselves as they take their first look into the mirror and know they should expect more of themselves.  more peace, more compassion, more empathy, more of all things good for their spirit.   after all,  hatred is sneaky. its an equal opportunity vulture.  you may think you are spitting it out and away from you,  like a cleansing ceremony.  but there is always some left behind.  it sits inside you, poisoning you as well.