Hey! Did you see where it went?
No. Where did it go?
It’s right there. *points* On the floor.
Oh, yeah. Well, pick it up.
You pick it up.
No, you dropped it. You pick it up.
Me? I didn’t drop it. I just found it there.
Where?
On the floor.
It’s ruined then, isn’t it?
What?
It’s ruined. It’s on the floor, it’s dirty and damaged now.
Why is it ruined? Can’t it be dusted off and used again?
I don’t know. I don’t remember. Is it important?
I think so. Don’t you care?
Maybe. Maybe not.
*thinking*
*looking around*
*thinking*
*remembers*
Where did it go?
It’s right there. *points*
*looks* Oh. It’s still there. Yeah.
Get it.
You get it.
*sighs* Nevermind. I’ll get it.
No, I’ll get it.
Okay. *mumbling*… finally
*mumbling* …gotta do everything myself.
Do you have it now?
Yes.
What are you going to do with it?
I don’t know. Dust it off? *blows off dust*
*sigh* Give it to me. I’ll take care of it.
Okay. Here you go.
Thanks.
Sure.
*wipes away dust*
Where were we?
I think we were over there. *points*
Let’s get back to what we were doing, then.
Yeah.
So, what were we doing?
I don’t remember.
Me neither.
Then let’s do something else.
Maybe later.
Okay. Later.
When?
Where?
Doesn’t matter, does it?
Okay. See ya later.
Yeah. See ya.
*waves*
*both turn around*
*both look about*
*both see each other again*
What’s new?
Same ol’ same ol’.
Whatcha got there? *points*
Ah, you know. That thing.
It seems okay now.
Yeah. It seems okay again.
That’s good.
Yes. It is good. It’s all good.
Guess so.
She walks out onto that shaky, wire-thin tightrope for the first time and she is really sure that he will be reaching out from the other side to take her hand and keep her safe. There is no doubt in her mind or heart because she has learned to trust him, trust his words. And when there are no words, she trusts in his feelings and emotions.
The wind begins to blow and the tightrope begins to shake and then she starts lose her balance and she starts to wonder and worry, and look about, searching for him. “Why isn’t he reaching out? He’s just standing there, smiling, not holding out his hands toward me.” What now? Does she want to keep trying to cross the tightrope to the other side where he is waiting? Or should she stop and try to go back?
With a deep breath, she decides that it’s too late to go back, she has passed the halfway point. She has committed herself to this now. But it doesn’t look good to go forward either, because he doesn’t seem to be smiling as much as he was. She teeters in confusion as she wonders if he will help her if she starts to fall, or will he just watch her plummet and sadly shake his head, murmuring “How unfortunate.”?
She works up her courage and she dares to ask, “Are you going to help me? Are you going to reach across to me and help me get to your side?”
His smile fades and he looks to his feet. He shakes his head and sadly replies, “No. I can’t. I can’t do that for you. I’m sorry. I never meant for you to rely on me for that.”
She feels a burst of disease in her stomach and a wrenching pain in her heart. She gives up then, and in shock and despair, she falls to the ground. Hurtling down into the bitter pain that is waiting for her below.
Lying on the pavement, broken, tears streaming from her eyes she wonders, “Why did I think he would catch me?” She realizes the truth, “I was out there all alone! What a stupidly trusting, idiotic thing to do! I guess I won’t be doing that again. No. Not ever again.” And then she closes her eyes over the tears and drifts away to another time, not so long ago, when the words they exchanged had the power to lift her high, and to urge her onward, daring her to first step foot on that tightrope. The tightrope that ultimately caused her such dire pain.
Several years ago I had a friend, Lisa, and she and her family were moving to another state. Lisa asked me if we would take their family pet; a quiet, complacent, fat cat, whose name now escapes me. I told her we would take care of her cat, if she couldn’t find anybody else. You see, we already had a cat and it was not a very friendly pet. He spent most of his time outdoors and he didn’t like to cuddle or even be petted, really. Which was a shame, because I’d had cats in the past who did love to be cuddled and I missed that.
Lisa brought her cat to us just before moving and he immediately went behind our couch to hide. Over the following days, we tried to find the cat behind the couch and coax him out to eat, but he was afraid. He didn’t know us, he didn’t know our house and he was not willing to accept our offers of food and attention. We left food and water out all the time and there was a litter box nearby for him and at night he would come out and eat a bit and use the litter box as well. Then he would be back behind the couch by morning.
I felt badly about not being able to take better care of the cat, but I also knew he was traumatized and I couldn’t force him to like us and his new living situation. We caught glimpses of him throughout the month he was with us and we could see he had lost a lot of weight. He was no longer the fat cat he once was. One day, we had the front door open as we went in and out of the house carrying things in from the car. The no-longer-fat, frightened cat ran out the door. Of course we looked for him. But we never saw him again after that.
I guess I learned from this experience that no matter our good intentions, no matter how much we want to help or care for somebody, if they don’t wish to accept our offer, we can do nothing to help them. And if they won’t accept the things I can offer, then, I have to let them go and hope that a little bit of what I’ve said or done for them will stick with them and help them somehow to feel stronger and more able to achieve their dreams sometime in the future.
Here is the original of that photo that I took at the OC Fair during AlFest 2009. This one has Alicia in it, rather than cut out. ;)
From left to right, Me, Amerah, and Stephen.
Oh and that’s a GIANT SAND WEIRD AL in the back with a giant exclaimation point above his head, yes.
Ahhh, Summer ‘09, I miss you so.
Summer ‘09 was kind of the best thing ever.
- Leave the copy machine set to reduce 200%, extra dark, 17 inch paper, 99 copies.
- In the memo field of all your checks, write “for sexual favors.”
- Specify that your drive-through order is “TO-GO.”
- If you have a glass eye, tap on it occasionally with your pen while talking to others.
- Stomp on little plastic ketchup packets.
- Insist on keeping your car windshield wipers running in all weather conditions “to keep them tuned up.”
- Reply to everything someone says with “that’s what you think.”
- Practice making fax and modem noises.
- Highlight irrelevant information in scientific papers and “cc” them to your boss.
- Make beeping noises when a large person backs up.
- Finish all your sentences with the words “in accordance with prophesy.”
- Signal that a conversation is over by clamping your hands over your ears and grimacing.
- Disassemble your pen and “accidentally” flip the ink cartridge across the room.
- Holler random numbers while someone is counting.
- Adjust the tint on your TV so that all the people are green, and insist to others that you “like it that way.”
- Staple pages in the middle of the page.
- Publicly investigate just how slowly you can make a croaking noise.
- Honk and wave to strangers.
- Decline to be seated at a restaurant, and simply eat their complimentary mints at the cash register.
- TYPE IN UPPERCASE.
- type only in lowercase.
- dont use any punctuation either
- Buy a large quantity of orange traffic cones and reroute whole streets.
- Repeat the following conversation a dozen times.
“DO YOU HEAR THAT?”
“What?”
“Never mind, it’s gone now.” - As much as possible, skip rather than walk.
- Try playing the William Tell Overture by tapping on the bottom of your chin. When nearly done, announce “No, wait, I messed it up,” and repeat.
- Ask people what gender they are.
- While making presentations, occasionally bob your head like a parakeet.
- Sit in your front yard pointing a hair dryer at passing cars to see if they slow down.
- Sing along at the opera.
- Go to a poetry recital and ask why each poem doesn’t rhyme.
- Ask your co-workers mysterious questions and then scribble their answers in a notebook. Mutter something about “psychological profiles.”
from ArtLung.com
