Strange Day

I stopped to visit a friend who was brutally assaulted and raped at Burning Man a few years ago. He's recovering still - the latest, a botched surgery to repair torn intestines led to leaks inside. He rests, listening to loud sixties progressive rock while he trims the leaves from the buds. Cannabis is his business, and it's bustling. Giant green monsters grow in his garden, the whole house smells of earth and dirty gym socks. When I see it all in this form, I find it surprising that anyone smokes it at all. Others have noticed the leviathons in his yard - he's been robbed, twice, to the tune of $20k. Completely licensed to grow, he reported the crime to the local authorities. I take pleasure in knowing that there is at least one Sheriff working to recover stolen weed.

I'm then off to complete a stupid car repair and receive a call from Mother that our missing claim file has been located by what must be the one cool cat at the Veterans Administration. This is good news. We're that much closer to settlement, and after four years, we're very ready.

While at the mechanic, I learn that a dear friend had died. I'm invited to come sit with her body. I leave the mechanic and an hour later I am kissing the cold forehead of a dead poet in her living room.

I'm next at Whole Foods buying dinner and I notice a pretty girl panhandling. She's walking with her baby on her chest in a strapped-on front pack, which always get me excitedly anticipating a circus act that never happens. This young mother is nicely dressed in gear from REI, including an expensive sun hat. I watch her walk towards an older man exiting the market and she says, "I need a few dollars for a way to get home." The man gives her a dollar. She walks, bouncing on her Teva sport sandals to the free organic pinneapple samples and quickly shoves several into her pockets, one slice in her mouth, and one for her baby. A woman approaches and the young mother receives a scournful denial when she asks for money. No problem. A few more samples of pinneaple and she heds off, hopefully in the direction of home.

Remembering this afternoon got me to thinking, which is always a danger for everyone involved.

I realized what I was saying and what it meant. I struggled for days deciding whether or not to say it.

To speak the things I see in you and to know that I have the power is crushing and terrifying. It is odd, this feeling, at once submissive and then at the helm. I can mold and shape this life as if it were a pile of brush, breaking and bending the twigs until they take the form I wish. I've been shaping your life, too - not maliciously but somehow selfishly. Ignorance of our own heavy handedness does not preclude the crime to be committed. And I have wronged you, my friend.

Our trajectories in tandem, we seemed to be reaching for the same carrot, dangling in our faces. All of this time I assumed that an unseen force, an intelligence beyond measure, held the rod that dangled the root, teasing us forward toward our mutual goal. It appeared right, just and perfect that we ran in stride, sharing our visions for our lives.

Now I see, it was me. I held the rod, I tantalized with the bait and I've wasted your time. Precious time, draining from our bodies as each second we come closer to the ultimate decay. Stand up, my dearest one - we'll sleep deeply when the final night arrives. Until then, I want to see you in your glory, unfettered by your love for me.

This is not martyrdom. I seek no praise nor gratitude. I want you to have what you want. I want to free you if freedom is what you seek.

And what of me? Partly, I fear I might disappear without my experiment in control. I have no idea what I'll do next once you've left to grab what you desire with lightning hot fists. There is no need to say that I will love you, completely, passionately, devotedly even after you're gone; you already know this. I am sure I will find some way to love the void, too.

Dance, my heart's occupant - sing and live fully. I will not forget you.