Paying it Back

 

I opened my eyes and… ‘Gahhhhh! Pffffttttt!! Cagh Cah! Hak!!’ I said.

Payback. I guess I deserved it.

The end.

The Juggling Act

Sometimes life is just a big juggling act, and we are being pulled in so many different directions, by so many committments, and people’s expectations, it is a wonder that our limbs are still intact and we aren’t metaphorically drawn and quartered. Or maybe we are. Perhaps pieces of us are scattered in a metaphorical scarecrowless cornfield being pecked at by big hungry metaphorical crows, and we just haven’t realised it yet.

Metaphorically speaking.

I guess the trick is to prioritise and delegate, so when she booked us into Clown College on the day i was supposed to be getting a filling in my incisor i decided to send a friend to get the filling instead and learn to ride a unicycle. It wasn’t easy. You would think that i would have a knack for balancing, and you would be mistaken, because the number of times that i fell sideways onto my face would have had to be seen to be believed… And i wasn’t even on the bike yet.

I wanted to try my hardest, for her sake, so i took a couple of pain killers and i gave everything a go. I dragged a bunny out of a hat by its ears and removed a really long colourful scarf from my pants… though i was at a loss to understand how it got there in the first place… and where it was actually coming from. I also pulled an incredibly unhappy looking goldfish out of her ear, and i wondered how long it had been in there and how she could possibly have enough liquid in her head to keep it alive.

We were supposed to learn how to do the make-up, and paint our faces and everything, but i gave that one a miss because honestly, clowns really freak me out. I mean, they’re always smiling. It’s just not normal, and i worried that if i put the make-up on, i might never be able to sleep again with myself in the room.

Anyway, at the end of the day i had learnt a whole lot of skills that i would probably never use again. Then, i had to spend a half hour looking for her because she had left half way through without telling me, and had been reading her book in the cafe across the road… and when i was eventually able to join her, and bite down on the crunchy cookie that i had been craving all day… i heard a big crunch all right… and i gasped and looked at her incredulously as my tooth dropped tinkling onto my plate… and she looked at me, very subtly shuddered… rolled her eyes… and suggested that i pay a visit to the dentist.

So i guess i did learn a few useful lessons. That sometimes life can be a struggle. And occasionally we have to juggle. But, regardless of our choices, be they right or wrong, whatever we do time will turn like a cog…

The only really important thing, is to not drop the dog.

Tandem Bikers

We weren’t very compatible tandem bikers. I just wanted to be relaxed, and do things slowly, languidly, chilled, but he kept trying to speed things up like a manic mouse in a wheel. His legs were a blur as they whipped around, and i was about a fraction of a second away from losing control. It was way too fast for me. Frustratingly so. I could feel the wind whipping through my ears and clamouring about in my brain as we flew along the ashphalt. My arms and legs were beginning to cramp. It was pretty unpleasant, but i was trying to be diplomatic and not hurt his feelings.

When we came, to the intersection of the road, i asked him to slow it down a bit. I told him that he was going way too fast for me, that it just didn’t seem to be working out at the moment, but he didn’t really seem to get the picture. Too fast in the legs and too slow in the head makes for rather an unfortunate combination, especially when one also seems incapable of listening. In the end i suggested that we should take a break, and he reluctantly agreed, so we sat side by side on the side of the road and ate a ham and cheese sandwich and a packet of chips, shared a thermos of tea and soaked up a bit of sunshine. We didn’t talk much. I suppose neither of us really had anything worth saying, so we sat in silence and focussed on eating our sandwiches. I could hear his breathing slowing to normal, and the rustling of leaves, and a family of birds discussing politics and the global financial crisis in a nearby tree. It was really very peaceful.

Eventually, when my strength was restored and i felt suitably rejuvinated that i could get up, and get back on the bike he turned to me, squinting through the glare of the late afternoon sun and asked me if he could go behind. It took me a few deep breaths to calm my mild irritation at the idea, i didn’t really like him being behind me, it made me nervous, but i agreed on the proviso that he would watch his speed, and not make any sudden jerky movements with the handlebars that might send us careering out of control into a street pole, or a parked car, or even worse, a prickly bush. He seemed pretty nonplussed at the idea, and after a few checks, looking over my shoulder to make sure that everything was in order, we continued on our way.

I was pretty relieved when we got back without any serious incident and locked the bike up nice and tight, and i asked him if he wanted to join me for a cup of tea, just trying to be polite really, but he said he had an early start the next day and needed to get some stuff done. This suited me just fine, so i said goodbye, and closed the door, and curled up on the sofa with my new book, and i contemplated the next time that i might go bike riding. But, next time, i thought to myself… next time i might just go it alone.

The Tea Party

I don’t really understand what exactly went on today, but it happened all the same. During my birthday he had gone mental buying all sorts of different cakes and desserts. More cake than we ever could have eaten, or ever would have wanted to eat. Chocolate with raspberry, and cream, orange blossom syrup and sticky salted toffee, vanilla icing, lemon and poppyseed, carrot and coconut, sour cherries and sprinkles.

I don’t know why he bought it all. I don’t even eat cake. I don’t do sweet. I’m more of a savoury person. In fact… i like things bitter. I hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings so i’d had some, but there was still so much left and though i didn’t like the idea of letting it go to waste, i had consumed my obligatory slice and the evening was over.

Today he invited me over for tea. It was very civilized. He had set his favourite china, the one that had belonged to his mother, and we sat at either end of the table with the cakes spread out between us. It was a bit weird really. I felt like i had to be on my best behavior. I held my breath as he very neatly sliced two peices off the nearest dessert, placing them lovingly on the plates with a reverence that seemed out of proportion with the occasion. ‘Let’s have some cake’ he said.

He held up his tea cup ‘a toast’ he said ‘to us!’ and then, placing down his teacup, with the expression of a mischevious child about to do something very naughty, he swiped his index finger through the creamy icing of his slice, and leaning over, whispering quietly in my ear “for you, my dear” he placed the icing gently on the tip of my nose.

… I’m usually pretty controlled at the best of times, and the worst, but in this moment i couldn’t help it. Like someone possessed i squished my fingers into the centre of my slice and swiped the mixture smoothly down the side of his face. It was out of character for me, and it was very satisfying.

His mouth twitched into something like a smile as i felt a giant glob of cake and cream whizz by the side of my face. The tension in the air was palpable… a fraction of a second … nobody moved… then … i lost control, he lost control and cakes were flying through the air left, right and centre. Spreading their wings like big colourful birds.

It was all over our faces, in our eyes, squished into our clothing and covering the floor and the walls and every surface in between. I was panting with the exertion of it all, and as i sent an apple pie sailing over his head, he caught me in his arms, locked me into him, and i saw myself in his eyes, reflecting back at me. Leaning into him slowly, i took a deep breath… and another… his arms relaxed… i stepped away…

He sighed.

Hesitating, he slowly licked a glob of cream from his arm and looking at me, with the composure of a saint, he calmly pointed to the upturned chair behind me ‘please do feel free to take a seat… would you like some more tea?’ he said, then, turning away from me, his shoulders slumping a little, he began to wipe down the wall…

Well, he’d said we should have cake, and we’d had it alright. It was all over us.

Inside us.

And we ate it too.

Lindy Hoppers

We are dancing our blues away. We are tap tap tapping to the beat of our drumming hearts all a flutter as the beat flows through and it hovers up above us, all around us and we feel it like the spark of a shock going through us is a moment of ecstatic joy or pain or something that feels like the world has lifted our souls to the heavens and then thrown them down.

And they bounce bounce bounce, all around, all around.

We are spin spin spinning and the air it rushes by us like we’re trapped in a tunnel full of wind and waves and they crash all around us and over and above us and we feel them bearing down as we spin spin away and our arms fly out like angels and they whoosh and they warp and our fingers are so light that we are feeling like we aught to absorb this moment and seize the day.

And they flutter flutter flutter, flutter away, flutter away.

We are buzz buzz buzzing as our legs speed up and slow and the air it is electric as it zaps buzzing with a glow all around us and within us as our limbs they flip and fly and we lean against each other and are connected with a sigh which hold us up then knocks us flat but still we are linked like a chain with a lock and we are trapped in a spiral our minds ticking like a clock.

And they tick tick tick, tick tock, tick tock.

We are puff puff puffing and our breath goes in and out and we breathe each other in and then throw each other out and our hands they link and hold so sure and strong and we push pull whirl and leap to the melody of the song and the song it feels like dreaming and we’re on a different plane and we are stuck down on earth but we’re in heaven all the same and our spirits they connect and they click into one.

And they fly fly fly, fly up high, and we’re undone.

The Fighters

It’s all about balance. That’s what Miyagi said to that kid, you know, the karate one. It’s a challenge finding that fine line between what you choose to do, and what you don’t, and when you should speak your truth, or hold your tongue. It’s something you have to work on, a skill improved with experience.

I still haven’t found the balance, and i wonder if i ever will. It’s hard to find faith in the universe that makes you confident that the choices you’ve made are the right ones. Most of the time i’m pretty chilled out, and the Buddha inside me knows that i am in exactly the place that i should be in that moment. But right now… right now i feel like grabbing my stupid nunchucks of whatever they’re called… and wacking myself over the head with them.

Martial arts training. Yep. It really doesn’t suit me but she seems to be taking it all in. She looks like she belongs actually, like she should be a fighter. It’s a little frightening. She could probably, might possibly, knock me flat.

It’s all in the pursuit of self-preservation.

I get it. I just don’t seem to make my own preservation a priority.

Not too smart.

It was her birthday a few days ago, i planned a few things, she was pretty happy. If you can count her ‘i’m miserable but i’m gonna fake it till i make it’ vibe as being happy, and I wanted to tell her what i was thinking, and then i wanted to tell her to just get a grip – but i got nervous, a bit scared, and sort of intimidated, because she was just like a beautiful piece of impenetrable marble, so strong, so in control, and so closed.

She freaked me out.

It’s so rare for people to just say what they actually think. The whole premise of many relationships seems to be based on a guessing game where one has to interpret a person’s feelings based on them saying pretty much nothing. God forbid there should be any real honest dialogue, and if you do take a risk and come out with exactly what you feel, you become social, emotional kryptonite. You’re just a crazy person.

So, i didn’t say anything. I shut my mouth tight and said nothing. I wasn’t brave enough.

Can you blame me? It’s so much easier to just run away, to disappear and let the fear, the discomfort of feeling something disappear too. Sometimes i want to bury my head in the sand and hope that no-one tries to break through my own protective cocoon. Then nothing bad would happen… Nothing particularly good either. My life would become an annal of disappointment and missed opportunities.

That sounds horrific. That can’t be me, i won’t allow it. I have to be brave. I have to be a fighter. Someone that believes that sometimes the risks are worth it. One that can find enough balance within, to conquer the imbalance of their world without.

I didn’t take that leap of courage the other day, and I probably won’t today or tomorrow, or the next day.

Or the next… but,

The day after that perhaps? Next week? Next month? Next year…

Unfortunately, with any risk, any decision, any fight, there is collateral damage.

Things get broken

I just hope, that when the time comes, one of those things isn’t me.

A Great Presents of Mind

It’s my birthday coming up. Another year older, another year wiser… or not. Naturally, i’m feeling rather reflective, i always do around this time of year. I never really feel like i am living up to my true potential, and It’s easy to  forget that my expectations are very rarely particularly realistic or necessarily achievable;

But what is the point of aiming low?

As always, i can’t help comparing where i am to where i thought i might be. I think about all the mistakes, the lessons, the little victories. I think about the things i know. The things i should know, but don’t, and all the lessons i would learn from the University of Life… If only i knew what they were.

So many lessons. It’s like trying to catch snowflakes, and each one is unique, and special, but there are so many of them, it’s impossible to catch them all, and eventually they melt into one big puddle. It can be overwhelming. I try to focus on the important bits, because honestly, who wants to be weighed down with never ending lessons? Not me. Sounds like my worst nightmare, probably is, and sometimes, the big ones hurt.

It’s not really about the lessons though. It’s more about what you do with them. Whether you decide to carry them with you, absorb them, or let them go.

He’s being all mysterious, and excited. I think he might be more excited than i am. I can’t even begin to imagine what he has planned, but he always has something crazy up his sleeve. I doubt it’s my birthday that has him all pumped, he just likes having an excuse to have a party. I envy him, because he never seems to worry about all the life learning, the goals, the future and destiny mumbo jumbo. He just get’s on with things. I’d say he thinks i need to loosen up and get going too, though he’d never say it to my face. Probably thinks i’d bite his head off. Realistically though, i probably need him as a teacher.

It’s not fair that i’m so angsty, i think about things so much, it’s like a curse…and he’s so chilled. He’s a bit like the Ying to my Yang, or something. Perhaps he’s right, maybe i need to stop trying to learn to understand the meaning of life, i only have one after all. This is my life, i should probably get over myself, eat some birthday cake, open up my presence…

And live it.

Balancing the Imbalance

He’s been off balance lately. The uncontrollable comings and goings in his life are bound to make anyone a little edgy i suppose. Especially when people come, and go, and then never come back. He misses them, so much that every once in a while a blank look settles on his face and his eyes appear to turn inwards, like he’s examining in minute detail the meaningful moments of the people in his mind.

He mostly wants for the companions he has known all his life, his daily communication lifeblood, his emotional protectors and confidants, but his mind also turns to the ones he hardly knew, the missed opportunities, the transient ones, the individuals that existed in the shortest bubble of time, that flew away and popped into nothingness as he blinked.

Sometimes they disappear and don’t tell him. It hurts. He spends hours wondering what he did wrong, how he pushed them away, the mistakes that he made. He occasionally forgets that he is good, he’s not perfect, nobody is, but he’s worthy of more, deserves better, and does the best that he can. He has no control over other peoples choices.

He never will.

Often, in time, he forgets for the most part that these disappearing acts ever existed, and when they do float to the forefront of his conciousness, he plucks out the good moments he had with them, the happy memories, and nestles them into the corner of his arm, and comforts them on the fact that they didn’t get more time with him, or the opportunity to make any lasting impact on his life.

They are a mystery. The what if’s, the what might have been’s, and the if only’s. They bound into his life, the promising stars in the first act of a hit Broadway play, only to sneak out before the intermission. The understudy is invariably called up, and the show must go on, but the performance is irreversibly altered, better perhaps, but it will not, can not, ever be what it might have been.

It’s hard for him i think, he struggles with it. The lack of control. His inability to hold on and never let go, the incapacity to choose when to let go. The way they slip like smoke through his fingers.

They keep leaving.

Leaving. Going.

No-one is coming.

But i am staying, I’m not going anywhere.

I am balancing the imbalance.

I am here.

The Chasing Game

It’s the chasing game, it’s no fun if there is no chase. It’s the thrill that is important, and the end goal, well, often it’s a little inconsequential. You want to play, everyone wants to play. The faster it rolls, the higher it bounces, the more desirable it is to catch it.

But.

What if you can’t, don’t know how, don’t understand the rules. What if you have no poker face, and the best that you can do is lay your cards on the table and say;

‘Look at my cards. Some of them suck, but in a few more moves i think i might win this.’

You have shown your cards, and the other player is still holding theirs. You can’t see them. You might never see them. Have you lost? Who knows.

And then;

You are being chased, and then you are the chaser and eventually you don’t know what the hell is going on because you are both running in circles around and around and around and around, and sometimes, at some point, sometimes sooner rather than later, you get tired, battered, out of breath, and you want to stop running, you want to slow down, and turn around, and throw out you’re arms and say;

‘Catch Me!’

But.

Once you have been caught the game is over.

And then what?

Look at Me!

I really don’t understand women. They’re a little kooky. I mean, she keeps sending messages to this guy she’s apparently involved with, and praying that he will reply, but he never seems to. Then she mopes and looks disappointed as if he hasn’t just done the exact same thing that he always does. She has such faith in him, and she always seems so surprised. Shocked.  I would have thought that she’d be used to it by now. He never replies. What a total douchebag. Still, she waits for him… yearns for some sign… then waits some more. It’s seems exhausting. Probably is.

Seriously! She needs to just get off that merry-go-round.

Refocus her attentions…

To me, perhaps?

Look at me! look at me! I am here!!!

I am ready!

I am waiting!!

What the hell is taking so long?