Quiescence

Last Saturday, Jaim and I attended the debut of a good friend. Of course, being there, my mind wandered to my mom-imposed debut (to which i fought against tooth-and-nail, being totally averse to gowns and ballrooms and frills, insisting that i was succumbing to this horrible self-glorification solely for my mom. then of course i had so much fun and cried buckets and realized why it made my mom really happy. thank you mama.) almost ten (!#%%^??? TEN????) years ago. I remembered the boys -- lanky, bespectacled, Ikey; life-of-the-party AKA court jester Robi; my blue GOWN (which, to this day my brother refers to as my fairy godmother costume HEMF); the cotillon; high school friends i have to lost touch with; high school friends who are still here with me (Anne; Bridge); the surprise video (to which i cried BUCKETS); my college best friend Nette (who plays beautiful piano... i miss you); and my life and dreams ten years ago.

Unfortunately, reminiscing is inevitably followed by self-evaluation and the eventual horror that comes with the thought, "What the hell have i done in the past TEN years???". The same thought that comes whenever you arrive at a life stumbling block for the NTH time, wondering when your time will come, how long you've waited, and how much longer you'll have to wait while watching others pass you by. During dinner tonight, Jaim and I discussed all the present challenges in our lives, and I found myself reassuring him (and myself) that everything will be okay. Another conversation with Kaye revealed to me that once again everything happens for a reason, and that there's something to be learned and improved with every *shitty* (pardon my french) situation. Feeling pretty humbled. :) I realized once again that everything of value in this world WILL drain you. That to decide to pursue a dream means emptying yourself of everything you've got, then find you've got more to give - only to be emptied again. Over and over again. Then you realize it's Love. 

Sans the details of my self-realization that cannot be revealed here, i think this gave me an excuse to post something by my ever beloved Rilke on patience with life. I dedicate this to Jaime (and to whomever else might need it - feel free to change the noun):

In this there is no measuring with time, a year doesn't matter, and ten years are nothing. Being an artist means: not numbering and counting, but ripening like a tree, which doesn't force its sap, and stands confidently in the storms of spring, not afraid that afterward summer may not come. It does come. But it comes only to those who are patient, who are there as if eternity lay before them, so unconcernedly silent and vast. I learn it every day of my life, learn it with pain I am grateful for: patience is everything!

Beautiful. If I could choose a Lover, i'd choose Words. Am in love with Words. :)