Whoa! Didja get the numbers off that truck?!?


January 31, 2005 - 10:56 p.m.

Stuff I said

I stumbled upon this by accident; I'd forgotten I'd written it. I wrote it to a friend in 1999 who had just signed divorce papers that day.  I used to think about this stuff a lot.  I still do.


This is heartache. This is why we're here on this earth. Our souls feel pain I don't think we could feel any other way. The boundaries of time and space make us endure these agonies in measured inescapable boundaries. Then we die and go off to the next plane to do God knows what. We take these lessons learned here with us. We re-join the souls who left before us, meet with our advisors, and plan the next trip. Our earthly notebook will be filled with first bicycle riding triumphs, first kisses, shocking memories of beloved friends who left too soon in a haze of carbon monoxide, dead relatives, and divorces. Big bad mean hateful splits. Written in big black crayon. Ever try to erase black crayon?
That's my spin on it, uncolored by any childhood religious affiliation. It's propelled me forward through the past twenty years.  Don't try to tell me I'm wrong, I've got my own church. All I'm missing is the tax deduction. You can join if you want, there's no collection plate.
Once you dial a few miles past this smoking wreckage, you'll see things with less tearful eyes. You'll pass the mourning stage. You'll wake up to look forward to a Saturday. You'll smell the fresh washed air of a Spring day. You'll feel more alive. Love will catapult you. Wait for it, it's coming.
In the meantime, live this pain. Roll in it. It's the fine varnish layer of life that gives us all the rich warm patina of a life lived well with all the varied experiences that makes us rich and full. We pile all these layers on and eventually end it all in a bright flash of ending Humanity. We take our Book with us (this is gonna go on your Permanent Record).
Boy, you're gonna have stories to tell!
I do go on, don't I?






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