I am doing this wrong.
To my best friend, I write: I am insecure and I feel like everyone hates me today.
I talk too much.
I started talking at seven months old, and I haven’t stopped since. I need to talk. I love to talk. But my first word was “no.” I famously wear a necklace that says just that:
I say I “famously” because the boys will come in for a kiss and notice the charms and ask, What does your necklace say? As if to flatter themselves and me by noticing something about me.
And then I have to respond in the heat of the moment, It says “no.”
My train of thought about my Chatty Cathy tendencies is broken when my phone buzzes. It is my best friend replying: I love you. I am hiking in the Verdugos; thinking of you.
The names of the mountains in Southern California are all rather gory if you think about it. Verdugo, I think, means Executioner.
In California, the Verdugos border the San Gabriel Mountains. Saint Gabriel, for his part, foretells the births of Jesus and John the Baptist. And in Jewish mythology, he reaches into the Tree of Life and yanks out the precious, shiny new souls. Then he throws them out into the world to slouch towards Bethlehem to be born.
Death and birth and death and birth and life.
Give nature a kiss and sing praises to the universe for me, I reply, I love you.
Then I put the phone down, and I put my head down for a moment. This year has been Too Much. And I don’t want to be a whiner about it; I don’t want to be a needy or weak woman. I don’t want my personal challenges to usurp my successes, or take away from the tragedies and joys of those around me.
How do I do this. I am doing this wrong. Am I doing this wrong.
It all makes me Rather Exhausted; Kind of Blue.
For instance, I have an idea of what I am supposed to be doing, and I’ve conceived of the set-up; I’ve put it together in advance, but I am mostly improvising.
Am I doing this wrong, though?
On second thought, maybe not.
I am just improvising; planning a little; making it up as I go along. Ending one thing and listening for the whispers of the next, great things to come. And they will be great. For now, though, I am just kind of blue.