Goodbye, weekend. …
I didn’t do shit for work this weekend. And that’s OK. What are they doing for me? My thoughts, my being, my SLEEP is consumed by them. Last night, I dreamed about my tete-a-tete with Pussy Demure. Eeek! It’s like a dream out of Wes Craven’s head. Not pretty. Not one bit.
Had a lovely brunch at the Boulevard Woodgrill in Clarendon today with Bryan and Paul. We ate lots of good food and had wonderful drinks and good conversation. Then we went back to their place and I got to see all of their photos of Niagra Falls from their recent vacation (they were postcard-quality, I insist!), and they took me on a grand tour of all of their paintings and even B’s new sculptures in the apartment. Wow! And then, as if I weren’t feeling inspired enough from all the brilliant artsy works around the house, then they started reading their poetry to me. I even shared three of my poems that are posted online somewhere, and I have libraries more that they say they want to see.
It was quite an intellectual day. Most enjoyable. Those two are not only creatively brilliant, but also socially and emotionally intelligent. I was sad to leave, but I wanted to give them some alone time — they don’t seem to get enough of it, and I really wanted to call my Mom anyway. But the thing with Bryan and Paul and me, we don’t dwell on the negative (well, except for Bryan’s and my poetry!). We discuss, we process, we dream. And then we get back to what is really important, which is what’s going on in our lives right now as well as the possibilites that we have yet to encounter.
An unexpected visitor nearly threw me for a loop, but I had nothing to say, good or bad. It’s a new feeling, this void. Again, not good or bad, just different. The distance has been welcome, however, during this time, because I am the important one for me to focus on. While I can certainly appreciate his disgust that was the catalyst to his erratic and impulsive actions, well, I’m the one left in the ruins. And the only person I can feel sorry for right now is myself. I have no backup generator of energy right now to afford to anyone else. My heart is presently closed for repairs, and I’m eternally grateful to those near and far who are keeping theirs open for business for me during this trying time.
When I was making the commute from Alexandria to Arlington this morning, I did some hard thinking as I trekked 395-N. I have always, always pondered the meaning of life, and today, it’s as if the answer were written in the sunlight-illuminated clouds above. The answer, my friends, is to grow. We cannot regress, we cannot stagnate — we need to grow, in order to reach our full potential. And in the end, our growth process and progress is all we will have, after material possessions and friends and careers have come and gone. We will always have what we learned, who we loved and what we contributed to the world. He who dies with the most toys is not the winner — he (or she) who dies with the knowledge and satisfaction of having rolled with the punches and conquered life’s challenges in rapid succession and loved and gave love to those who mattered, to me, is the real hero.
On that note, I am in dire need of beauty rest for this incredibly, uh, challenging week ahead of me. Among the weeds, bees and beetles, Shan and I need to spray on the insect repellent and try to grow, despite the lack of nurturing sunlight that we desperately need in order to thrive. Like we keep saying, our endpoint is in late March. Here’s to hoping we don’t die on the vine until then. …
But one last thing —
GOOD LUCK ON YOUR INTERVIEW TOMORROW, BRYAN!!!!