These were my friends.
We all married very different men.
Now there’s only one of us who is still married.

Hindsight is 20/20 and looking back I clearly see what did me in was the outfit.

Who wears pajamas AND hiking boots at the same time?

It is in the thirties that we want friends. In the forties we know they won’t save us any more than love did.
- F. Scott Fitzgerald

I thought I had everything where it should be but I was wrong.
That made me feel less than peaceful.

I sought advice.

The angel people in Oregon told me to search for the divine.
A drunken witch who put some cards down told me I had to let go.
Family told me to go to church and pray.
The doctor told me to admit and forgive.
My sister told me to run or do yoga.
My mother told me to repeat positive statements and trust God and myself.
A stripper told me to contact the elements.
Educated men told me to look for the solution in art.

After much some thought, I came up with a way to do all that at once.
Here it goes:

The pool is always empty (my neighbors think it’s cold outside).
At night, the pool looks like a gigantic Tiffany’s box.
I go down a couple steps and sit down, water to my waist.
Lotus pose. At first I could only do half lotus. Now I can do both legs.
I sit like that for a while staring at the water.
Then I close my eyes and softly sing “Closer to fine” by the Indigo Girls.
At first I couldn’t get past the first verse without choking.
After a while, I’d end after the second verse, bawling my eyes out.

The night before last, I was able to sing it all.

Last night I repeated my routine and when I opened my eyes there was a little black boy (the neighbor’s kid) staring at me.
Huge, bright eyes in the darkness.
He said: “Can you sing again?”
I paused for a second and answered him: “Yeah, I can” but his mom called for him and he ran towards home before I could.
I stayed in the water thinking about my singing again.

Maybe I AM feeling better.

If I can sing again… who knows? maybe I’m finding peace.
And if I’m finding peace, maybe God is listening.
And if God is listening, maybe the day will come when I’ll feel like shaving my legs again.

I said maybe.
Nobody go getting excited yet.

Here are the lyrics and the video:

I’m trying to tell you something about my life, maybe give me insight between black and white. The best thing you’ve ever done for me is to help me take my life less seriously. It’s only life after all.

Well darkness has a hunger that’s insatiable and lightness has a call that’s hard to hear. I wrap my fear around me like a blanket. I sailed my ship of safety ’til I sank it. I’m crawling on your shores.

(Chorus):I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains, I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains. There’s more than one answer to these questions pointing me in a crooked line and the less I seek my source for some definitive, the closer I am to fine.

And I went to see the doctor of philosophy with a poster of Rasputin and a beard down to his knee. He never did marry or see a B-grade movie. He graded my performance, he said he could see through me. I spent four years prostrate to the higher mind, got my paper and I was free.

(Chorus)

I stopped by the bar at 3 a.m. to seek solace in a bottle or possibly a friend, and I woke up with a headache like my head against a board, twice as cloudy as I’d been the night before and I went in seeking clarity.

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains, I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains. Yeah, we go to the doctor, we go to the mountains, we look to the children, we drink from the fountains, we go to the bible, we go through the workout, we read up on revival and we stand up for the lookout. There’s more than one answer to these questions pointing me in a crooked line. The less I seek my source for some definitive the closer I am to fine.

-Indigo Girls, Closer to fine

There’s only one thing I have fantasized about my whole life:

I have the biggest smile in my face and I’d very much like to thank the person who gave me the box and its contents.

Heaven is an eternal afternoon of tea, boardgames and laughter.
And Shakira.
Possibly.

“We read in fairy tales about human beings whom mermaids and mermen enticed into their power by means of demoniac music. In order to break the enchantment it was necessary in the fairy tale for the person who was under the spell to play the same piece of music backwards without making a single mistake. This is very profound, but very difficult to perform, and yet so it is: The errors one has taken into oneself one must eradicate in this way, and every time one makes a mistake one must begin all over.”

- Kierkegaard, Love and Marriage

My brother and I used to play a game. I’d point to a chair. “THIS IS NOT A CHAIR,” I’d say. Bird would point to the table. “THIS IS NOT A TABLE.” “THIS IS NOT A WALL,” I’d say. “THAT IS NOT A CEILING.” We’d go on like that. “IT IS NOT RAINING OUT.” “MY SHOE IS NOT UNTIED!” Bird would yell. I’d point to my elbow. “THIS IS NOT A SCRAPE.” Bird would lift his knee. “THIS IS ALSO NOT A SCRAPE!” “THAT IS NOT A KETTLE!” “NOT A CUP!” “NOT A SPOON!” “NOT DIRTY DISHES!” We denied whole rooms, years, weathers. Once, at the peak of our shouting, Bird took a deep breath. At the top of his lungs, he shrieked: “I! HAVE NOT! BEEN! UNHAPPY! MY WHOLE! LIFE!” “But you’re only seven,” I said.

- Nicole Krauss, The History of Love