Truth Is Stranger than Fiction
July 02, 2010
How is it that when I am always sure of what I am going to write about, something happens that forces me to completely change my focus?
On Wednesday I drove up to New York to meet a friend to see Carole King and James Taylor perform. It was a wonderful concert: wonderful time with a friend who is great for creating memories with, wonderful seeing my mother a little less drained than she had been the previous week on her way back up to New York, and wonderful that the drives to and from New York were smooth sailing almost the entire way. And wonderful that I went on this one-day adventure after it had changed from a more intentional, extended visit with my mother to a less than 24-hour jaunt. After the concert I thought that I was going to write about how the audience of midlife-plusers couldn’t contain themselves from singing out loud during “Natural Woman” and “Fire and Rain”—moi included. But then something happened the next day that shelved that reflection on how we change and yet how we don’t change. But on second thought, maybe it is still on that but from an entirely different angle.
On Thursday afternoon I checked my work email. My heart did a drop and roll back into place as I read the most unexpected email. It was from a man who I was friends with in the few months I lived in New York between visiting Israel and moving back to Israel in 1982-3. It was a very intense friendship--and no sex or dillydallying was involved. It was this free moment before our lives (I assume on his, I know on mine) took a serious turn. We were free to talk and walk around New York for hours, and doing spontaneous things because we were young and felt the power of our youth and the flood of happiness that invades when you mesmerize and are mesmerized by someone else without really being aware of it or acting on it.
Oh my. I cried for about five minutes in the car as I drove to pick up my daughter and her friend after they saw Eclipse at the mall.
How do you ever know if you have touched someone? And do you ever know if you have been acknowledged long after your presence isn’t present? Twenty-eight years ago we were companions in an idyllic interlude. And that has been remembered.
In the space of his email I was transported back past the bitterness and disappointments that have tainted me. He brought me back to a time before regrets. Before, as too many people have noticed, my eyes deadened—and then came back to life. Back to being the young woman who listened to James Taylor and Carole King in her room endlessly, being touched by their words but not, yet, fully understanding the meaning from which they were formed.
Just being at that concert, listening to Carole King and James Taylor, transported me back to my youth, but yet kept me so solidly in the present, so did his email. The past and the present. Perhaps I have lived my past more fully than I thought. Maybe there is less to regret than I think. I was fully in my life, experiencing it, not planning it or anticipating it or waiting for it. Perhaps that is the sense that I need to recover; not (necessarily) the silliness of walking across a bridge in a blizzard, but of committing to the preciousness of each moment—and of sharing and creating joy.
* * *
Update on the six-week relationship: It did not last past that marker.
I've been having a similar thought recently. About my perception, when I was younger, that something (I'm not sure what) happened and one day when you were "old" you just started listening to "old people music" and doing the things that old people do (Hey! You kids! Get off of my lawn!)
But... here I am... now what the aforementioned younger me would consider old (I am now the age my mother was then...) and I still listen to the same music I have always enjoyed and realized, with horror, that young people today think that the music of my youth is "geezer music" (or at least "classic rock"). I do the same things I always did (well, ok, I don't rollerskate anymore because all I I can think of is that it would be my luck to fall and break my hip or something...) but all of this is so much more SUBTLE than I had any inkling of in my youth.
Over the past couple of years, I have (via Facebook, for instance) found and connected with old friends. With just a couple of exceptions, these reunions have been really nice. One of the "not good" ones involves me finally tracking down the email of my best friend from my high school days who I had reconnected with briefly about 20 years ago and then we lost track of each other again. I sent an email and it was answered by her husband (who I had introduced her to, BTW) who asked me why the hell I cared now, after 20 years and asked me if I had any idea what they were going through (I didn't and he never told me). I sent a couple of follow-up emails the last of which bounced back (apparently he either blocked me or trashed the email address).
Anyhow, sorry for the "comment novella", but my point is that yes, I completely "get" what you are talking about in your post.
Posted by: MsDarkstar | July 02, 2010 at 09:56 PM
As far as changing focuses on what to write? Happens to me all the time!
I try to make sure anyone knows that has touched my life in such a way - because I know I would want to know in return.
Posted by: April | July 03, 2010 at 04:41 PM
Truth is what was formed from the stronger thoughts of the cultural brainwashing by the man story and the hole truth was generated by male dreams ,superstitions and crazy religions
according to quantum theory that the observer creates reality according to their expectation. the experiment men does not separate men from women but includes both. science tells us that everything is made up of particles. everything.
women being ostracized is not new, even in this day and age women continue to be treated less than men and therefore less than God
i am a beautiful young woman who through years of shedding myself of male cultural brainwashing realized that this hole story is a male story --not even a single female god unless made up by males
all early language was formed by males and the eggs we carry will be used as males see fit
the brain washing by male is so good that they have half our species praying to their gods
this it truth that woman are too fooled to understand
thus the ordinary play with the ordinary
not a rant just years of looking for truth not formed by males
may the male story be kind to you
Posted by: lilly | July 05, 2010 at 02:28 PM
Ms. Darkstar, novellas are always welcome! Sorry about the nasty experience with friend's husband.
Geezer music, huh? You know, as I sat there listening to the songs which I so related to when I was younger and so relate to today, I don't think that I really had a deeper understanding of them at 49 than I did at 15. Maybe there are things that we "get" and they stay with us at that level, not getting deeper, maybe richer. Sometimes seeing a movie over again or reading a book again doesn't mean that you have more insights, rather it's the comfort of the experience, of a relived experience that gives it depth. I think you got me thinking some more on that.
April, thanks to you instead of just letting my daughter's "okay" text go unanswered, I texted back "Love You." You're right, if you feel it--and it's a good thing to say--why wait.
Speaking of people touching my life: since I really stepped into myself I have been much more of a shoulder toucher and hugger. Sometimes you need to really cross the space between us and establish a physical bond. No one has flinched me off, yet.
lilly, you have some interesting ideas there, lots to contemplate.
Posted by: Laura of Rebellious Thoughts of a Woman | July 05, 2010 at 04:16 PM
Laura
these aren't my ideas but truth open to any human of ordinary intelligence and is mentally and somewhat philosophically sound
i know that what truth is is rhetorical to people that their minds were formed in early childhood but there might be someone else that sees the evaluation of the man story and it's exclusion of half our species
at this time in evaluation it would be futile to change or fight for truth but just sit back and observe the dizziness of humans and most of the 3 billion woman that have been written into the story as man seen fit
i am not blaming man because it is not a premeditated forming -just nature wanting the strongest genes
sorry for not writing fuzzy things but there is nothing fuzzy about this man story
i will never give up my eggs to a male to use as he wishes by sending them off to war or bowing to his every wish any other crazy idea he comes up with
i am not a feminist nor follow anyone or want anyone to follow me because you then put someone higher than self
these are just thoughts that might detract from the mundane
best wishes to all that can step out of their brainwashing -look around and then run back into their safety zone
lilly
Posted by: lilly | July 06, 2010 at 08:07 AM
Laura, what a lovely post. The past has been something I've been thinking about for the past while, probably because of the book I've been writing being young adult, but also, getting older. The years seem to be accumulating quickly now, you know?
What a lovely thing to happen, someone from your past letting you know how they saw you and maybe seeing yourself through their eyes. It makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy I must say.
Posted by: JC | July 09, 2010 at 09:36 AM
Laura
these aren't my ideas but truth open to any human of ordinary intelligence and is mentally and somewhat philosophically sound
i know that what truth is is rhetorical to people that their minds were formed in early childhood but there might be someone else that sees the evaluation of the man story and it's exclusion of half our species
at this time in evaluation it would be futile to change or fight for truth but just sit back and observe the dizziness of humans and most of the 3 billion woman that have been written into the story as man seen fit
i am not blaming man because it is not a premeditated forming -just nature wanting the strongest genes
sorry for not writing fuzzy things but there is nothing fuzzy about this man story
i will never give up my eggs to a male to use as he wishes by sending them off to war or bowing to his every wish any other crazy idea he comes up with
i am not a feminist nor follow anyone or want anyone to follow me because you then put someone higher than self
these are just thoughts that might detract from the mundane
best wishes to all that can step out of their brainwashing -look around and then run back into their safety zone
lilly
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