the love of my life.

‘she was the love of my life, until she wasn’t’. 

i’ve always thought that’d be a great country/western song title. i’ve always liked country music so, as pandemic fear spread inexorably through the radio-waves, i switched from cbc to a country station. i thought a little down-home music would be a less traumatic way to begin the day.

i’d tuned into the cbc first thing in the morning for years. i’d sip my first cup of coffee, catch up on the latest news as the day dawned. it was pleasant, but that was then and this is now. as the news-cycles became infected by covid-19, i decided that ingesting a super intense cup of kick-ass coffee, combined with endless news-flashes about the real possibility of a wheezing death, might not be such a stellar way to begin each day.

unfortunately, after listening to the current country music for a while i realized i might’ve been mistaken. the lyrics did not speak to me, probably because i’m not a raging alcoholic. for example: ‘i like cold beer, yes i do. i like cold beer, how ‘bout you?,’ or: ‘the beer i had for breakfast wasn’t bad, so i had another for desert,’ or: ‘tequila makes grandma take her pants off.’ whatever happened to: ‘i walk the line,’ ‘forever and ever amen,’ or: ‘i hope you dance.’

the commercials on all the channels, of course, could drive anyone to drink. ‘we’re here for you’ is an oft-repeated phrase i seriously doubt. paying a company to help me get outta debt seems questionable. an injury-lawyer incessantly assuring me he’d only get paid when i got paid feels somehow odd. ‘buy more, save more’ is a catchy if illogical slogan. banks, car dealerships, the big-box department stores all claim to have our best interests in mind. there’s an ad for a retirement residence that sounds paradisiacal, and they apparently have several vacancies at the moment. i found myself looking wistfully at the saaq as i drove over to buy groceries.

in the end, i simply began to resist turning the radio on altogether, for a while. i drink a bit of coffee while listening instead to the birds sing, watch the day dawn and appreciate the moments of perfection. i’m awake, the mornings are lovely, i feel grateful. after all, she was the love of my life, until she wasn’t.

‘it is in the early morning hour that the unseen is seen and the far-off beauty and glory, vanquishing all the vagueness, moves down upon us till they stand clear as crystals close against the soul.” sarah smiley.

the tooth shall set you free.

i’ve been waiting years for someone to ask a certain question, because i have a great answer. nobody has asked and so i can wait no longer. 

the question i envisioned some earnest spiritualist to ask would go something like this: “nathan, with your tremendous wisdom please tell me, when will i lose my ego? i meditate religiously and follow all the right precepts. i study the scriptures, perform good deeds and yet still i feel terribly ego-full” “yes,” i would respond patronizingly. “you are a great aspirant and therefore i will now impart unto you the true and largely esoteric knowledge: you will lose your ego, my young student, when your teeth begin to fall out, especially the front ones.”

that is, after all, my direct personal experience. having been a monk and a yogi, after silent retreats and strict spiritual practices, it was only on that day many years ago when my bottom two front teeth got yanked that i knew the process had really begun. that was an honest-to-god, bonafide, true spiritual experience. and it was surprising.

there was a large fish tank in the centre of the waiting room with hardly a few tiny little fish swimming around confusedly. i presumed the tank was to help clients feel relaxed, but frankly it had the opposite effect on me. i kept wondering if those were only the last surviving fish. i don’t know why i had that sense. perhaps it was actually a pervasive subconscious sense of impending doom. for whatever reason, i was far from feeling relaxed.  

i’d made the appointment for an unrelated issue. however, from the start my dentist recognized with a sense of urgency that those two bottom front teeth were dangerously deteriorated in some way and he summarily, unceremoniously pulled them. i clearly recall him losing his grip on one of the chiclets as it sprang forth. and the thing had such an impressive trajectory that it landed with a loud clang on the tiled floor.   

the sound of that clang has stayed with me. it has come to represent, in my mind, the starting bell to the rest of my life. i walked out of that office that day with a mouth-full of cotton and a realization that i was not the same person who had entered an hour earlier. i was no longer who or what i had thought myself to be. i‘d be walking around with a large space in my mouth for the next few weeks and, interestingly, i felt strangely freed. i felt strangely relieved.

one of my very last remaining teeth was pulled out not long before the pandemic pandemonium pounced upon the world. i walked out into the reception area once again with a mouth-full of cotton. and the lady behind the counter asked if i’d like to schedule a cleaning, to which i spluttered: “for what?” she just gazed up at me blankly, but the young dental assistant beside me began laughing. so i turned to her and mumbled: “do you charge by the tooth?”

www.artdelapaix.ca. 



love’s driving rain.

only along these hallowed hallways 

of forms imagined in absence of candle-light

can we recall with all relief the brilliance of our own

and be ever after the benefactors of more bounty 

than the fiercest of pirates could’ve ever known

to roam with freedom’s star at our backs 

amidst a celebration of fear’s flight.

only within these structures narrow and changing

along illusions foyer of time and space

might we watch ourselves loosen the confines to reflect

on being ever the recipients of more richness

than the shrewdest entrepreneurs could’ve hoped to collect

to drift purposefully with love’s driving rain upon our chests

towards an awesome and humbling grace.

only along these stairways of creativity

designed for joy and sorrow’s conclusion

can the very lords and ladies of the estate enjoy the climb

to look out upon garden and stream

a panoramic vision to the corners of a kingdom

more grande and expansive 

than the greatest conquerors unfulfilled dreams.

only within these channels of absolute synapsis

might we investigate our affection for the other

to understand the all-permeating oneness

and gaze forever undisturbed with freedom’s star

and love’s rain as our comrade’s against delusion

to walk forever undisturbed with freedom’s sparkling star

and love’s driving rain for company in our eternal seclusion. 

that thou art.

after living in the wilds of a glorious alaskan countryside for months, he wrote deliriously in his notebook: ‘happiness is only real if it’s shared.’ 

that was the film’s climactic conclusion. at that moment it had been decided that happiness, at any rate the main character’s happiness, could only be real if shared with his parents, sister and no doubt the lovely girl he’d met along the way. 

so much for the message, the inference being that there can be no real happiness without all that. i was strongly in favour of his decision to pack up and go home. i was seriously rooting for him. he’d at least get a decent shower, eat a few veggies, have some laundry done. nevertheless, the boy had rather unsurprisingly but just slightly missed the point. 

in sanskrit, there‘s a saying: ‘tat twam assi,’ ‘that thou art’. this is a time during which we‘re yet again cajoling each other into understanding our interconnectedness, our oneness. it behooves us to understand that, to really understand that the whole of creation is permeated essentially by one life-force, irrespective of race, creed, colour or even species. that thou art. our happiness is just as real simply when shared with the life all around, in any of its myriad forms, including our own. 

ironically, what i loved most about the film, what made me happiest, was the spectacular scenery and wild-life. it made me happy to see the elk, wolves, moose, bear. the cinematography was fantastic. i was not, however, so happy when one died and the story did not end well. one cannot help but feel for the characters around us with even the subtlest understanding of our unity. that thou art.

when one of us is in trouble, in that case, it’s as if we’re each of us in trouble. when one of us can’t breathe, with that understanding, it’s as if none of us can breathe.

“one's life has value so long as one attributes value to the life of others, by means of love, friendship, compassion and true understanding.” simone de beauvoir