I said, "I believe in my beliefs shaped by the path I have walked between mountains and across meadows." She looked up from her book and said, "What have you been reading so late into the night?" I said, "The pinched nerve in my neck is killing me so I have been reading about near-death experiences." She said, "Perhaps you should dwell on more than the single-mindedness that results from a maddening pain." I said, "Can't you see that I am seeing crooked holding my neck at a precarious angle to life the whole day long?" She said, "Come. Lay your head on my breast so that you fit with me exactly how you are and I will ease your pain."
I said, "I have decided to give my life the title 'Extreme Experiments.'" She said, "Funny, I don't consider myself extreme or experimental." I said, "But you have given me the possibility to recognize a grander perspective." She smiled. "Two people. Peculiar lives. Some shared space and time spent in each other's arms makes all the difference." I smiled, too. "I had no idea this conversation was going to turn into a love letter." She said, "As one brilliant mind wrote, 'We complex people cannot retreat to blockish simplicities.'"
During dinner I said, "My feet are too large for my room." She said, "Any room means riotous wealth upon which you can walk." I said, "But cramped living leads to small bitternesses and resentments." She added, "And also for cozy living arrangements that call for lots of snuggling." I smiled. "I welcome those small delights which can be found when space is at a premium." She said, "All of creation is one large room."
I said, "In my childhood room I cried myself to sleep every night believing God was absent, not realizing that God was the room." She said, "And look at how many rooms you have in your house today." I added, "Though I tire myself out with the preponderance of dark thoughts and what seems to me to be their endless repetition." She said, "You do such a great job of taking the mystic's advice, greeting them at the door, laughing." I said, "Even the taste of laughter in my mouth turns bitter with the sorrow on the face of my neighbor." She said, "Kiss me, so I can taste it and then we can make brownies together and take them next door to share."
I said, "I awoke this morning believing waves are caused by dolphins." She said, "If those waves don't drown us, we can all play together at the water fountain park." I asked, "Which do you like more: slides, pools or jets of water intermittently hurling out of nowhere?" She answered, "I like it most when my expectations are disastrously too low." I remembered, "King David once wrote of how God draws us out of many waters." She thought aloud, "I wonder what the many waters may be."
I said, "Last night I dreamed of living in the lower level of a duplex." She said, "Surely it was a nightmare knowing the space where you lived when I first met you." I said, "Though my stay ended so lovely. You riding in on your beautiful stallion to save me." She laughed. "I remember calling out for you to let down your hair so I could pull you up." I laughed too and added, "And here I had just taken the clippers to my hair." She said, "And thus began our long tradition of making do with what the other has given to us."
"But smaller bundles - Cram" - Emily Dickinson I said, "On the way to loosening up, stumbling blocks appear at random encountering my understanding." She asked, "Do you want your days to be as easy as a bird of prey riding the air, upheld by nothing?" I answered, "I am looking for a way to share my joy of living so others may recognize what makes me smile." She said, "In this time, the difference between recognition and figuring out what matters lasts only as long as the time it takes for a tear to slide down a cheek." I asked, "Tell me, did yesterday's peculiar ending shape the melancholic words you speak today?" She answered, "Halfway endings and unfinished finales and hazy outcomes always, in the words of the poet, 'Cram.'"
Because. Because we have a protocol to follow. Because resistance grieves me. Because I don't want to participate. Because it is against my belief. Because my health does not allow me. Because someone is listening to us. Because the metaphor doesn't make sense. Because we are still walking the privilege walk. Because the root cause has not been found. Because the devotion of others has waned. Because power has not been shared. Because you shouldn't be in the loop. Because I don't have time. Because.
As you began the conversation long ago, Divine, speak us into being once again, for the self-made gods have declared and said who can and who cannot speak in this world at this time and in this place. Amen.
I said, "The balance in my checking account has reached a new high." She replied, "Remember: narratives of aggregates always serve wealth." I agreed. "I am aware of the different storylines used by the storytellers." She added, "And the layers of power, hidden from most, continue to pull the children from their families." I asked, "What is the history in my particular landscape that tells where I am today?" She answered, "You were the minority when you arrived and, luckily, it turned out fine for you."