DEEPLY AWAKE – THE LOST

We are, each one of us, lost.

Each of us disconnected, willingly and joyfully, we came here and donned the veil. We convinced ourselves that the veil making everything we touch, sense, taste, see was wrapped around us in a permanently maddening way, and that the only way to find any peace was to venture without, amid the folds of that veil, and out there find peace, find some salvation out there.

In a smile. In a home. In a pet. In work. In child rearing. In study. At church. At the office. At the bar. At the farmacy. Anywhere. The veil is out there, and good is out there too,

So it went.

We took it on, this veil. I think, though, that as the veil has lifted, as the curtains come tumbling down in my life now, I see myself primly lifting my bent fingers to my head, and there is my burka. Buttoned to it is my veil. My hands, knowing a truth I do not posses, nimbly unbutton this veil from my headscarf.

Long ago, I, myself, put this veil on my head.

I walked for five decades cursing the darkness and hating those who pressed up too hard against this veil, smothering me, unaware of the horror my face was expressing, knowing only their own blindness, their own darkness.

I was given gifts this morning, and while unwrapping them, up my mother's face came.

My mom. My impenetrable wall. My greatest koan. The one whose role it was to soften the blows life was to deal me, constantly in the corner, frowning in a detached way, looking out the window, smoking and wishing she was anywhere else.

I remember little kindness from her. I remember judgment. I remember never being good enough, tame enough, happy enough, girlie enough, never enough. No one and nothing gave her peace, although she tried it all.

DEEPLY AWAKE – SHIFT

Last night, I worked what will have probably been my last shift at the hospital which has sustained me since April. I practiced with some tough characters: the controlling charge nurse, the uppity nurse I went to lunch with and appreciated good reasons to never do lunch with her again. I had an hour and a half nap. I drank lots of decaf. I ate cheese. I smoked in 18 degree weather. And through it all, I was unaffected.

All through the night, I surprised myself by finding myself feeling so neutral. And when I was not neutral, I was feeling brotherhood. Appreciation. I was seeing the humor in things, I joked and I found that just by talking, just by opening my mouth and making sound, with the one change being that nothing I thought or said was offensive or harmful to myself or others, I saw how much ease I was creating.

Funny how the pushy charge nurse decided against her plans and wishes, and spent her nap break just hanging out with me, while she crocheted and I played video games. I saw the borderline mental health worker ease, and the conflict we'd previously had just felt erased. I never remember that event, but she does. She was relaxed last night, more easy, less constricted. Still guarded, but I know that's her stuff, not mine.