Last week was a long one, riddled with quirks and undertows. Speckled with tears and long hours of sleep. I lost about seven pounds, my self respect, a bottle of wine and my will to live. In the end, I drug myself to work every day, I even entertained people and fooled them into thinking I was okay at some point.
Thursday I had a fashion show in which I was supposed to arrive, show my collection and appear well adjusted and network. Im horrible at networking, I always arrive focus on the collection and getting the models dressed and when it comes to the time when the networking is supposed to be happening, I lose interest. I know I supposed to puppet myself around the room posing for pics with all the models and handing out fake hellos and hugs like business cards...but for some reason I cant ever seem to make this stick. Instead I want to vomit violently.
This show was no exception. The people were vapid the room was too well lit, and the "vampires" were out in full force. I hadn't eaten in days at this point, four bananas and two apples was no exaggeration of my food intake total in the week up to that point. Needless to say I was not drinking...no one wants to watch me go from barely holding it together to crying mess on the floor in five seconds. I got to watch the whole show unfold completely sober and as if I was detached from my body. Floating around a shell person.
The dressing room or lack there of, was stank. Even from the beginning a hallway in front of the venues bathroom was never a good spot for dressing and fitting models. The stench of bathroom was in the air, combine with the 20 or so models all trying to scamper in and out of changes. Soon body odor and that strange vagina smell permeated the air. Sweat was trickling down our backs, foreheads and ankles. A beer was spilled and the whole area became a swamp, further adding to the cornucopia of smells and sights in the backstage area.
I watch the lights flash, as the models walk one after another. Stark blasting white light, flash after flash, cataloging this night, these people and the whole strange event. Posted later on every social networking sight for everyone to judge and mis judge and opinion form on.
The heat is making me dizzy, or maybe that was the lack of food? My broken heart poking at my insides? All of these combine? Who will ever know. I puppet myself up to the front of the room and plaster on the best "I'm totally awesome" smile I can muster. Smile for the cameras and escape from stage as soon as possible.
Back into the side rooms and back space to collect up my art and whats left of myself and make my escape from this hot cramped smelly area back into my life.
The night air is cool, and the smells are muted by a sea breeze blowing fog and damp out over the city. All I can think of is let the ocean wash me off, and take these empty insides with it. Would I even feel the cold sting of the sub zero ocean at this point? Would anyone even care, I feel so alone. Floating.
Friday goes and comes, Im still numb. Waiting to get home to sleep it off....wondering how much longer I will be here waiting and pacing in my own head. Unable to stir myself out of this. The phone does not ring, there is no sign of life from the outside world. The fog sets in and takes hold of my rotting brain and body. Time has stopped for me. I curl up in a ball and watch Hunter S Thompson on the TV screen and try to get excited. For some reason I always find myself reading, watching or otherwise listening to him in low times in my life. Its like a phenomenon I have no control over. Like the world is trying to show me there are people, out there just as depraved and strange... you cant be the only lone fucked up tiger in this box. Get weird and get outta here.
Saturday dawns, and a strange foreign thought pops into my head. Like a long lost message in a bottle. It floats to the shore of my mind, dusty and covered in sludge. A few weeks ago I had been in such a good place I wanted to seek out a more structured mediation practice for myself. I had already gone through the trouble of looking up the times and dates for introduction and had nothing left to do but arrive. Coincidentally Saturday morning at 830am was the time to arrive. I woke up at 730 with just enough time to pull it together and walk the two blocks to the Center.
I have no idea what to expect, I'm lost and alone and lets be honest on the verge of suicide at this point. I haven't eaten, I have slept to much, Ive been crying on my bathroom floor as an after work hobbie for the last four days. To say the least I was up for anything at this point that just wasn't any of those activities.
I wished I was back two weeks ago in happy health and clear mind. Wizzing from task to task happily singing love songs under my breathe, but I was where I was.. and I went.
The door was locked and the entrance was menacing. Red brick with opaque glass windows. Institution whitewashed wood and black rot iron handrails, I almost gave up and went home. When out of nowhere a surprisingly normal looking lady walked right past me and unlocked the door. "here for the meditation?" she asked. I was able to get the word "yes" some how over my suddenly parched lips. It sounded like I hadn't spoken in years.
Inside there was a table with the usual sign in book and flower arrangements. Stereotypical ZEN items placed in the corners. Buddah statue in the middle of the wall space. The greeter/door unlocker motioned for me to sit in the cozy window bench area, and then disappeared. As I sat people fluttered in, confused and disoriented. Or inquisitive and overbearing. Some in high priced yoga wear others in sweats. The room began to fill up. Two piping hot tea pots appeared in front of me with a perfectly lined row of cups.
I wandered into the outside courtyard as more people filled up the entry way. I watched in silence the goldfish in the fountain front and center of the courtyard. Marveled at the simple beauty of the water plants unaffected by me or anyone else. Bells were chiming from somewhere deep within this temple. Robed figures moved quietly down the halls and walkways. Somewhere pots and pans were being cleaned as every so often a bang or chang would break the peace and quiet.
Somewhere around this time a bald sprite of a woman in black robes made her way to the front entrance. I heard the commotion and moved back to the entry to listen. Apparently the introduction to meditation really didn't involve a whole lot of meditation at all.
Mostly we walked through the halls, learned that the bells we ring and why how to bring people to meditation and where to deposit your shoes before entering the meditation chamber. At the end we were led back upstairs for 10 minutes of meditation in the main room. Feet in lotus position, eyes open sitting, thoughtless and quiet. This is what I came for ....things settled.. and the energy wound around me and washed away all that confusion like a dry eraser on a white board. I stayed for a dharma lecture and kept the words in my heart for a month after. Let go of all the pain and thought I had been given the tools to move on. I wish my heart would listen and follow I wish it would stay in a center point and leave me alone with its fluttering.
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