El Gringoqueño

I don’t mean for every entry I write to become some kind of philosophical journey or meandering… but I just can’t help it. This melancholic soul of mine just can’t seem to sit still. Maybe it’s all the hard times we’ve been through in these past few years or all the joy we have because of our daughter. I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t seem to shake this smile I have.

I have something else, that I want to write here, but I haven’t had the motivation. Something happened to me about a year and half ago that started me down this path that I believe is the right one. Although as I mentioned I don’t have the energy to get it down. I’ve been trying, believe me, but it’s just not there yet. However, for the sake of my sanity, I have to get something down, some results, fruits so to speak… better to show than tell anyway.

Tonight was a late night at work. We didn’t leave until around nine. Roberto, Laura’s brother and Miray, his wife, were nice enough to look after Olaia while we toiled away. Since we were in meetings until late, we hadn’t had a chance to eat. Once again, Roberto and Miray came to our aid with a tasty Lebanese dish, a kind of middle eastern meatloaf with pita bread and accompaniments. A meal like that after a hard day at work can’t help but leave you punchy and happy.

I don’t know how exactly we got started on it… wait, oh yes I do. Miray was talking about ruts. She says, a bit self-consciously, her life might look like it’s in a rut. It’s not, she assures us, but well, you know, it might be. She takes care of her children, she cooks, she cleans, she picks them up from school. She thinks for a bit. Well there’s not much else, she concludes, but it feels full. She says it’s not like she feels empty, but sometimes when thinking about all the plans from college, what you imagined your life to be like, what potential, the dreams you never fulfilled. It’s the things for which you have no taste anymore. This doesn’t taste the same. Was it I who changed?

I’ve been thinking much of the same things these past few years - not that my life has been boring, but I’ve been beating myself up for not accomplishing more, for not having what I wanted to have at the age of 32.

And you know what it’s all pretty simple, we concluded and somewhat heartening, which is really all that is important when you’re trying to cheer each other up and feel good.

What do you use to study the world around you? Maybe you use a telescope for looking at the infinite outside of our solar system, distant stars, great novas, vast expanses that dwarf the imagination. It’s so large so great, you feel filled up staring at it, as if you would never get bored staring at the same stretch of sky, that you would never never get old before your time? You lose yourself way up there, imagining you are hanging upside down over this calm sea of infinity.  You begin to forget the grass upon which you lie, the blades that formerly scratched your back, made your legs itch. It all seems less important. The crickets fad into a distant blanket of white noise lost beneath the threshold of your consciousness. There’s that big thing… and it’s all that matters.

Perhaps, though, there is something else that captures your fancy more. Maybe, just maybe you’re fascinated by the microscopic. You want to peer into these little spaces that no one knows about. It’s not enough to know the grandness of things… it’s the smallness that captures your imagination, the mundane, the infinitesimal. You know your world. It’s the small things that give you pleasure, the squeeze of a tiny hug, kissing a boo-boo to make it feel better. Do you come home to a little dog to whom you are the entire world and who cannot contain herself as she leaps and jumps knocking over everything in her path. Do you feel those things? It’s easy to miss the little things while you are staring off into space.

So it was that we concluded that there was the infinity outside of ourselves and the infinity within; one, an infinity of greatness and journey and abundance. One spirit sees and does what all large and great spirits beg to do… to stomp, to dream, to make loud noises, ignite fires, and light up the world. The other seeks to pacify and understand and foment. It loves the broken, embattled and the weak. Its empathy and compassion and patience temper the fire, baffle the noise, and dampen the vibrations that ripple all around us.

A young pupil in a quandary for direction, asked his teacher how he may judge the battles upon which to draw his sword. "How, sensei, should I pick my battles so that I may be victorious?"

The teacher paused, and with a firm wisdom, replied. "Young student, this is not an easy question to answer, but I will give you the best advice I can give you." He lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Beware the great beast, for he may slay you with a single swipe of his claws or with but a blast of his fiery breath. Step lightly and do not choose this battle with a thought of impunity."

The master lifted his eyes and raised his voice emphatically.

"Be mindful always of the rats that scurry about the beast’s legs, for they will surely devour you in time. Step boldly, and always take this battle wherever it can be found."

If you can do these things, you will be victorious and a champion in your own right.

Billy Buckthorn was thrown violently down, straining as he fell to retrieve pieces of himself fluttering to the ground in the low gravity atmosphere. These were the things that kept him from becoming detached. From what he couldn’t say. But he had been losing himself out here for a while now. He stared at a photo of early Elvis that lay scattered amongst his things. There it was, the coolest man who ever lived. Life was getting hot, really hot, and he could have used some of that coolness now.