Those words, simple and precise,
have rattled in my head for a lifetime.
It’s hard to recall what really
started this process you might call
it. I think it’s been coming on for a long time, I just couldn’t thumb it. I
could feel it – really feel it – in my bones. I still can. It’s so deep it
feels like a part of me. It is a part of me. Maybe it just is me.
I remember when I was young, when
we got that trampoline. I said I was going to jump to the moon. I asked mom if
she wanted me to grab her some cloud to hold onto. She smiled and said yes
please. She looked at dad but he was busy with something else. I asked mom if
she thought I could get to the moon and she said absolutely. She said I could do
anything.
I bounced until my legs throbbed. I
had worked out how to jump the highest. I got the timing down just wrong and
flew backwards to the ground, headfirst.
I never reached the moon.
I remember when I was young, when I
started smoking cigarettes. I had myself convinced I was doing it for me. I was
doing it because I loved the pull of the smoke. I loved the smell. I loved the
way people looked at me. Mom asked me why I smelled like cigarettes and I
patted my pockets and pulled out a mostly empty pack. I bet it’s these. She
said I could do anything.
The shame tugged at her face,
weighed it down. I felt my heart pull.
I smoked a bowl in my room.
I remember when I was young, when I
bought a Honda. I spent half my time in the garage. I deconstructed the piece
of shit at least three times to put it back together. I spent half my time in
the car, driving away from town. Driving to other towns. Driving to parks and
lakes and outlooks. It was raining and I got in a wreck with oncoming traffic.
I awoke
to blinding white enveloping me. I heard sobs of why him and cries of please
help. I was in a lot of pain. She said I could do anything.
I
drifted.
A few
months ago I realized something was inside me. I told you I could feel it, but
it’s more than that. I can hear it, it’s calling to me. Signaling me to shore
but I ignored it. No, I didn’t ignore it. I fought it. I couldn’t ignore it. A
nagging at myself, my being, my whole. I tried to make excuses.
Like a
lost child stumbling into his mother in the store, I discovered. I
acknowledged. The things in my life – the events, the happenings, all of the
occurrences, the thumbtacks the strings loop around – are not random. They are
not chosen either. I am neither destined nor arbitrary. I am. I serve a purpose
and yet there isn’t. I make a choice and yet there isn’t. I could do anything.
I could leap for the earth. I could poison myself. I could jerk the wheel to
the left. I could do anything.
“Death
is the road to awe”
It's time to walk it.
