lots of bloggers understandably get excited by the amount of traffic they receive. if my blog had traffic, i would probably get excited, too. instead, it’s strange little things that make me happy, a few very telling anecdotes that provide some order amid the chaos.
along side the struggles, there have been many beautiful moments, as well, of course. i have greeted them quietly. i have accepted them and made note of them. i have taken some of them to bed. i have written some poems about them. i have photographed them from many angles. but i haven’t celebrated. only recently, even, have i started to feel more comfortable with the idea of celebrating.
after i left, one of the uncharacteristic things my husband did was begin quoting the dalai lama. over two decades, my husband had never shown me a spiritual, peaceful, one-with-the-universe, kindness-toward-all bone in his body. that he suddenly connected with the dalai lama became a big joke to me (especially during periods of, shall we say, spitefulness toward me). i doubted his sincerity.
every horror movie has at least one moment of quiet, a maybe-we-can-let-our-guard-down-now scene, a sunrise that seems to end the carnage. trusting it is always a mistake. it’s temporary. even when the birds start chirping again at the end of the film and children return to the playgrounds, the blood bath’s not over.
sometimes fear is all there is. fear that the new life is too fragile or somehow unsustainable. fear that dirty dishes, unfolded piles of laundry, a messy office and a ransacked closet mean the ex is right: households suffer under my watch. i find myself joking, is it any wonder i can’t keep a husband?
i’m not the love poem girl. a man i dated recently, upon being introduced to my poems, asked, “do you have any where no one gets sawed in half?” in fact i do have one or two poems that qualify as affectionate and sweet, but my story is that they were moments of weakness, and i’m stickin’ to it.
it’s the thing that gives us momentum, right? that search for happiness. it’s what helps us change our lives. so we did it. we changed our lives. to the extreme. and then it takes us months and months to dare ask, are you happy? it’s a fair but dangerous question.