“It Never Entered My Mind”
I’m what you call a late bloomer,
I left my relationship of 19 years when I was 53.
I didn’t give it a second thought-I just wanted to be free.
And besides, weren’t men just like streetcars?
Wasn’t there always another one coming along?
Well, they say there’s no growth without pain.
And once reality sank in, I grew a lot.
I got to watch as every last one of my illusions was dragged out, forced to kneel, and shot.
First I learned the streetcars didn’t run in my neighborhood anymore.
And my Happy Pass to Couples Land was revoked.
I was ostracized, while my X became hot property.
I tried all the cheesy singles scenes and came home night after night in shock.
Finally one day I gave up and accepted that I was an expired product fit only for love’s land fill.
I didn’t give it a second thought.
Remember in The Matrix when Neo tells Trinity, “Look! There’s that café we used to eat at all the time,” and she just frowns because the café and the friends and the food were never real?
If a tree falls, and there’s no one to hear it, does it make a sound?
If I fall and there’s no one to hear about it, does the fall matter?
With no one to share them, events become less important, less real. I become less important, life becomes less real.
I still remember long ago, at the start of my last relationship, the realization that I had someone spontaneously into my mind. I’m not alone? The sky’s the limit!
I can remember having that feeling, but I can’t remember anymore how it felt.
“Laughing on the Outside”
I never planned on being old and single.
But in 10 years since I left my x, life hasn’t offered me any parts as “The Girlfriend.”
And in truth, I wouldn’t want a man my age.
I’m still in love with youth.
So I soldier on in my invisible prison cell watching life through invisible bars.
And to youth I pray…
January 10, 2009
“When You’re Smiling”
I’ve had to learn the hard way over a life time spent falling into old patterns of seeking it what it is that honestly makes me happy.
When I was young I used to ask my parents for money for things, art supplies for instance.
Then when they gave me the money I wasn’t happy-because I didn’t really want their financial support-what I wanted was their emotional support.
But you can’t go around in public being sad-that’s social suicide.
You can’t break out crying in the middle of a sunny café patio.
You can’t break out crying in the middle of a date.
People are attracted to the positive, not the negative.
So for many years my mantra was, “Don’t let the sun catch you cryin’-the night’s the time for all your tears…”
Now days it’s much easier for me to put my sadness aside in order to get through life.
I don’t ignore it or rationalize it, but I try not to inflict it on others.
After all, they want to be happy too!
November 2, 2009
“There’s a Small Hotel”
Not being married, Jim and I didn’t get a lot of support or recognition as a couple. Our anniversaries were private celebrations.
But one fall we were house sitting for Mimi and Wes Craven in Venice. We went to bed late by candle light and I didn’t see much of our room.
When I woke up the next morning, Jim was already awake, and he whispered, “Look, Eva.” I sat up a little and saw a huge Venetian mirror on the far wall reflecting Jim and me. Our bed had a pure white chenille bedspread and white Battenberg sheets and pillow cases. There was a thick shaft of white morning light streaming through the white lace curtains of the window beside us. Behind us was a shimmery white canopy held up by two gold cherubs holding a gold crown.
Jim’s blue truck was parked on the street. Later that morning, we found it covered in a circle of white blossoms that had fallen in the night.
So I’ll never forget our small guest room in the Venice craftsman style cottage, where, for once, the time, the place and the one loved were together.
I’ll never forget it because once it sheltered a sacrament.
Once, it was our temple.
May 26, 2009
“Guess Who I Saw Today”
In the case of a personal betrayal, so much depends on how fast can you pick your self up and respond in a dignified manner.
Afterwards, you can grieve and lament-there will be plenty of time.
But it’s important to come away from those fraught final scenes with your pride intact, or at least a good sized shred of it.
That way you can recount what you said instead of forever wishing that you had said it.
February 23, 2010
I knew, if you cared, that you’d find me.
You don’t have a gun and your voice is steady, so I guess you’re a nice lady.
Well, I’m a nice lady too.
I have grandchildren too.
So may I tell my side?
I did not seduce him.
I haven’t left this neighborhood for 30 years, and I don’t even own a car.
He pursued me and after I fell for him, he told me he wasn’t free.
So now I love him.
What do you want from me?
I can’t call it off.
If you can make him leave me, so be it.
But I’m not giving him up.
“Feed the Birds”
William Blake once wrote, “Cruelty has a human heart.”
And isn’t it human to despise what we fear?
To fear poverty and despise the poor?
But aren’t we all poor?
Aren’t we all poor transient creatures bound only for death?
And as we despise our own mortal weaknesses, so we have no pity for the weaknesses of others.
I say have compassion for yourself.
Have compassion for us all.
That’s how we poor humans can sense divinity.
March 24, 2009
Dearly Beloved, I am your water spirit, the water nymph Nimue, and I must take your leave.
My sacred home, our blessed lake, was once immense, her spreading shores bronzed with clamoring flocks, her plunging depths silvered with shaft-lit fins. But that was long ago. Our lake is dying now, steadily receding, the roots of her reed banks parched, her delicate clay belly to assaulting sun exposed.
Crying overhead, the last falcon circles the last fish.
As with our blessed lake, so too with me. I can no longer keep storms from ships, water from lungs, thirst from fields.
A certain wise man I know, the ancient lord of our lake’s once abundant woodlands watches his forest, his wild creatures and himself being destroyed.
We Earth spirits have lost our paradise here and so must die.
Dearly Beloved, your water spirit, the water nymph Nimue
will go to the Forrest Lord now, and say…