There was a time when I learned the sacred values of words. If you overuse a word it can lose its meaning, its power. How can you hate the rain and hate injustice? Words are not bubble gum. They do not snap back. Once stretched out to fit any occasion, they lose their fit. Certain words one must reserve for maximum effectiveness.
I told the story tonight to a new friend of the the journey I have been on. My past is such an intricately woven tapestry that following a thread through warp and weft sometimes requires the introduction of a cast of colorful characters, all of whom hold sacred meaning to me.
I spoke of you, of course. You know who you are. And now she does, too. She knew Yogananda by name because she is a seeker as well.
Like Scheherazade, I kept my audience captivated so that you and I might live for one night longer. The gift of you is not just in the retelling of magical nights, but of the memories it invokes in the listener and the love affairs they once experienced themselves. And even the hope of future love that has yet to manifest.
It is in the hope that one spans time and distance and even incarnation. Carne. The flesh we inhabit. The vessel that carries the lonely traveler on their weary journey forward, ever in search of sustenance. At least for a single lifetime.
I think back to the night where you questioned everything I thought made me me. I was angry because I felt like you weren’t listening. But really, you were asking me to grow and it made me uncomfortable. I still had a ways to go before I was able to shed that exterior. You were asking all the right questions. I just wasn’t ready to accept that my answers were wrong.
What time is it where you are? When you wake up, will you jump from your bed? And will you wake up to an Americano with a splash of milk? Or to mud?
It is night here now. After eight. I am inebriated with sentiment of halcyon days spent far from you. Things that happened mattered more because I knew you’d be delighted to hear all about them. My ridiculous little stories that had value only to you. I have so many more to tell you. But they can keep for now.
Peace be with you, wherever it may find you. You’ve brought me peace here where I sit tonight, listening to crickets broadcasting weather conditions. Even if you are just an apparition of my past, I give gratitude. On a night like tonight, my thanks radiate in all directions from me. To every key holder who ever opened a door for me. But especially to you.