It’s hard to…
I should just stop there. It’s hard.
Everything is hard today, yesterday, this year.
It’s hard knowing that a year has passed since we watched
fireworks out of my hospital room in Denver and nothing has improved. It’s hard marking holidays and
birthdays amidst days spent imitating life.
It’s hard to opt for another stab in the dark, especially
when he thinks it’s the absolute right thing to try and she’s convinced it’ll
kill you. It’s hard to muster up
any emotion over who’s right.
It’s hard to believe that any of them are the answer. It’s
hard to believe there even is an answer.
And even when I stop the mental pro/con tight rope dance and
book an appointment, it’s not over.
Because that’s when she proposes her new idea, backed by research,
convinced it’s worth a try because “what do I have to lose?” And I’m at a loss
to defend myself.
Which is how I found myself driving downtown on a Friday
night to a hole in the wall doctor’s office after having stopped in at the
closest “pharmacy” filled with pizza boxes in the lobby. Crossing into an
alternate universe, I filled out the paperwork, forgoing actually reading what
I was initialing after “I understand that this product could cause
hallucinations…I understand this is not approved by the FDA”. Instead I just
scan for blank lines in need of ink and hand it back to the guy behind in the
window.
And if only all doctors appointments were so speedy. Five minutes later I was back at the
window, waiting for my cash-only brand new ID. It really was a very strict policy they have there. Lots of hoops to drive thru. The doctor was very thorough.
The requirements? Blood pressure of a living mammal and the
ability to stand with your eyes closed and not fall over. After those three minutes, the crusty
doctor wished me a happy year before I’d need to come back and see him and I
was on my way. Who knew?
If anything, the recreational benefits will be appealing to
certain family members I’m sure.
I’m sensing an influx of visitors with a whole new tradition for dessert
after the mandatory kosher Chinese dinner. Then again, we’ll probably do that in reverse…
So we’ll see.
It’d be easier if there was a talking burning bush or if my
meditation cards could be a little more instructional: “Lauren, go to Arizona”
rather than “I embrace the world with love”.
It’d be easier if the peanut gallery agreed or if I actually
had an opinion of what to do.
It’s hard when she’s so sure, he’s so sure, and I’m not sure
about anything. It’s hard to know
what to do when it takes all my mental energy to remember to breathe and walk
the pooch. It’s hard when the
ground shifts unpredictably.
And all of the bushes on our morning stroll were smoke-less
and the rune stone of the day was “acceptance.”
So for the moment I’ll take the guidance and attempt to
accept that this is where I am, rooted in the snarly mess of uncertainty and
hopelessness. Accept that for this
minute, nothing is so drastically wrong. Accept that it’s hard and try not to
drown in the unknowing.
It’s the quote that I apparently haven’t learned my lesson
from yet because it keeps popping up after decades…
“Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and
to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books
written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could
not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the
point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far
in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into
the answer.”
Rainer Maria Rilke, in Letters to a Young Poet
Living in the question…I’m awful at it.
So it’s just hard.
I accept that.
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