things to hold on to, things to let go

Little by little I’m starting to create a meditation practice. Because it is something so new to me I have been exploring it in different ways. Yesterday, I went to a class at a dance studio that I love. Every Wednesday they have an hour long practice in which they explore different meditations. One of the meditations we did was for concentration and it has really stayed with me. We focused on a candle without attaching any story for eleven minutes. It always amazes me how long I think it’s going to feel and how quickly times passes.

There is this man in NY who I’m really attracted to. He is completely unavailable and 3,000 miles away. But he pops into my head out of nowhere and makes me swoon. It is really easy for me to attach a story to this attraction because I have known him for over twenty years. I catch myself giving meaning to this new found gravitational pull but I should just take it in like the candle.

The koreatown apartment is like that too. It haunts me. I try to wrap my head around it. I walk through its rooms like a ghost. I create a story- I see the dishes in the sink, the bottle of rum on the table, the wilted birthday orchid, the cupboards filled with rice, spices, and vinegars I’ve bought, everything just sitting there quietly telling a story full of dinner parties and birthdays and friends over for drinks, of days and nights filled with writing and laughing and kissing and fighting. But oregano is just oregano even if I bought it and left it there. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a jar on a shelf.

Later that night I had a brief email exchange with an old friend who was my lover for a short period of time. We always had the craziest chemistry and I adored him. Still do. I don’t think we would have ever been day to day compatible but I always think of him. I haven’t talked to him in years but I know that he is married, and in a photograph I saw he looks happy, radiant and in love.

At the end of my email I wrote- I think of you always-because I do. And he wrote back and said- I think of you so often too. That just blew my mind away. How much we had touched each others lives. No story. Though there was one. No story just the feeling that life could be so strangely beautiful and at once eternal and ephemeral.