Recently, I found the poem that I wrote, Whisper Singing… And it got me to thinking.
I emailed it to Colin with the message, “This is the first poem I wrote about you…” I wrote it in July… And I met him in November. But it is… I really do believe it’s about him. He and I talk all the time about how we met at the perfect time — even two months earlier would have not been the right time.
And this part:
where do i find inspiration then?
it’s thinking of this.
of whoever you are
out there, someplace…
in the dark,
with your head on your pillow,
sleeping in the center of your bed
but with your eyes open,
you’re wondering if my eyes are open too.
And it makes me well up inside… Not because of the love that I have — as incredible as it is… But it reaffirms to me that everything happens for a reason. It’s so cliche, but it’s so true — especially for me.
I look back at parts of my life and I try to trace them back to their origins… I try to figure out what the formula was to create whatever sort of incredible thing.
It works for every part of my life.
I think about my son, first. He’s eight now and when I stop and try to think about the last eight years… I’m in absolute awe at how much has happened. There has been a lot of life lived, a lot of anguish, a lot of heartache, a lot of victories, a lot of failures. And I see his long eyelashes or his little bird-chest with his ribs pushing through his skin and I am thrown right back through my memories… I think back to that early pre-dawn Sunday morning, sitting in that dark apartment waiting to see what my pregnancy test said. I think about how I thought about abortion — I mean, I was a 20 year old doofus, on drugs, partying, about to be evicted from my apartment, wrapped up in a terribly dysfunctional co-dependent relationship with a man that never loved me… It could have all been different, but it’s this way because of the choices I made.
I mean, the multi-layered absolute chance encounter with Colin — it’s changed my life. Meeting him has set me on a path full of confidence and positivity… And all of the multitude of events that had to line themselves up so that he would be alone and I would be drunk enough to be daring… That he would be wearing the hat that caught my attention — the hat that his grandfather purchased likely fifty years ago — that sat in a box in a closet waiting for his head. That he would be the kind of man that would be ready to love me. That his life experience was such that he would be able to appreciate me in all my… Jami ways. I think about all the years of dating such losers — conditioning periods, I suppose, to show me what a real man is supposed to be like… So that when I found him, I would know. I know.
I feel like, in a lot of ways, Hollis and I have an undercurrent synapse that just connects. Maybe it’s because we’re both Scorpios. Maybe it’s because we’re both writers. Or mothers. Or bitches. I don’t know. Maybe it’s everything. But I think about my relationship with Hollis now — shit, I cried on Thursday night at the mexican restaurant telling her about where I’m at lately with writing and how I’m feeling resinspired and how I want to really start focusing on a book. And where did it start? What did I do to get so lucky to have a friend like this? I met her when I took her blogging class last year… Because of Date Wrecks… And I started Date Wrecks because I was dating online… Because I was single after the sociopath… So… I suppose I can thank the sociopath for where I’m at professionally? But meeting Hollis has set my life on this entirely new trajectory.
Shit… everything that happens has the potential to send me on a new trajectory, right?
The point here is that it’s all connected. Whatever sort of horrible shit you’re trudging through right now, know that your work is not without purpose. You are exactly where you’re supposed to be, in the most perfect time for you to be there. I don’t believe in God in terms of Sunday hats and choirs and tithing and all of that… But I think this whole epiphany lately is part of my spiritual journey. Because we’re not just all scattered around like confetti. There’s an order here… It’s almost like a rhythm.
If you sit long enough outside on a summer night, the song of the crickets and the frogs will eventually make a tune… The melodies fall in step with one another and it’s beautiful.
I finally hear my life’s rhythm. It’s the most incredible, beautiful song. And it’s mine… All mine. I don’t have to sit and wonder if something bad is going to happen. I don’t have to dread change or worry pointlessly about all the steps I must take…
I just need to close my eyes and move my body and my feet in time with my personal song… And I really do believe that everything else will line itself up.