Tree Love

Well, this happened. It filled my heart and I even put on a mask and went out to take a photo. Earth Day! I remember the first one, in DC. I was there, and was changed. Now I live next door to this...probably a hundred years old. I think about the people who probably planted it, to shade their cows. 

Finally cried. Took a bottle of cider and a writing project. I wrote the project sober, two times, and got that feeling afterward...that euphoria that something powerful happened. It's why writers keep at it. You sit down for several hours, completely focused, and you don't look up until that last paragraph happens, and then the feeling comes over you and your life is meaningful. For five minutes, anyway.

If you are smart you don't send it to anyone, but you fondle it. You wait until the next day and then you edit it, reminding yourself how stupid you are, how making yourself that vulnerable is such a terrible mistake. You send it to your writing group. If you are lucky, they know what to do. Some edit, and send you a document you don't open. Others just praise. That's what you need, encouragement. You just opened a vein. It's kind of a terrifying image, but yes, you tapped into your heart. Everyone benefits, mostly you.

It's dramatic. It's emotional beyond the limit most people are willing to go. But it's the job of a writer, of an artist. That is why people love you. Sure, they love you when you don't do it, but it''s what you can bring, and when you bring it, they want it.

I was surprised at myself, that I hadn't accessed that grief. Not accessing it is bad for you. I had pains...like in my lungs, kinda. I was kind of inviting death. I was not fighting it, I was wanting to hurt. Because this fucking hurts, missing out on everything we love. I haven't lost people yet, all the way, but I have lost everything I do...all of my gatherings, all of my jobs. It's massive in that there's no end in sight. Right as we think our hard work of staying home will pay off, everyone starts talking second wave.

DAMNIT! Every one of us has that neighbor...they aren't helping. They don't care about us. And then all the ones who are helping! Everyone offers to shop for me. I can't stand feeling this cared for. I can't stand having six zooms a week. I just want my life back.

I wrote for hours, I edited a long, long article. I plan to submit it to the Weekly, as a gift, and I hope they take it. Unlike my usual process, I love it and think it is brilliant (wait until morning...) I want to give what I have to give.

And then I sat on the deck in the afternoon sun and wept. Hard. There were chickadees and jays. The apple tree and orange/peach Mollis azalea were glorious. The neighbors were thoughtless and I hate them. I rode the stationary bike. I thought about getting even drunker. I thought getting drunk was a big mistake. I cried and cried.

Then I came in and got the perfect message on my email. I figured out dinner. I turned on the news. I thought of someone I wanted to reach out to, who lost her husband a year ago. I think I am sad. She must be way beyond sad. I still want to cry some more.

But I will watch a movie or something. Actually I will go through a million photos of Saturday Market for the article. They are amazing. Thank you so much to people who took photos.

Fifty years, and now what? No one knows. Maybe we'll be luckier than  we think. Maybe it's meaningful.