Two ways about it

Today, someone in Taipei reached me via googling “Two Ways of Seeing a River.” Mark Twain lives.

And me? I made it back to the gym, and my Sunday morning yoga class today after more than a week off due to illness. That’s nice. I’m in a weird mood, half sad, half gearing up for things to come next. Maybe that’s an appropriate feeling as the year comes to a close. For some reason as I drove home from yoga, my mind drifted to disappointments and slights. I have an acquaintance at the gym who I start to talk to, but rebuffs me (at least in my mind) with her body language, turning her back to me and moving closer to the woman she is talking to. I smile and give a wave (unacknowledged) and go on my merry way as if it doesn’t matter, but the first domino has tipped, and as I get in the the car I wonder about that college friend who found and friended me on Facebook, then after the exchange of a couple, seemingly friendly, letters, “unfriended” me without a word, and as I drive I think about an old housemate who enthusiastically arranged a coffee, only to show up with minutes to spare, talk of future plans, only to disappear. I am lucky to have many friends and acquaintances who are wonderful, and seem to think I’m okay. The majority seem not too annoyed by me. I went to a party last night, hosted by my friend who I have known for over a dozen years now. And more callous part of me realizes that certain amount of attrition, which is to be expected, actually relieves some burden on my schedule, gives me more time for people who want to spend time with me…but still, those few who don’t, is there something about me, something annoying, something everybody sees but I don’t realize, do they have some insight the others don’t? This is how the dominoes in my mind tumble sometimes.
My mom leaves on Tuesday after a five week visit in town. My sister is dropping her off here today for the afternoon. I’m thinking of taking her to Loehmann’s for a little shopping, and maybe also to the museum. It has been nice having her here, not in an every moment is magical way, but in a real way, where you realize that everyone still has the flaws they have always had, but you still love them anyway, and hope they love you. Undramatic, which I think is what I expected, and yet some part of me must have expected something more. Since my dad died, this holiday seemed a kind of end point to work toward as a family, and now the future seems rolled out ahead without landmarks. But that is me looking at my mom’s future, and it could be she has her own landmarks I know nothing about.
I’ve not worked on my script for several days now, which means I’m back in a tough position of having to do a greater number of pages each day until the approaching deadline on Jan 4. But I have not been able to drum up the anxiety required. My body and mind feel like an exhale, a sigh. I’m lying on the ground at the base of a cliff and see the large wobbling rock that I know is going to cause the avalanche, but I’m just too calm to run. I think, “when it starts to roll, I’ll have impetus to move, until then, I might as well enjoy the stars.”

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