The Crooked Window

Every man has the right to risk his own life in order to preserve it.
--Jean-Jacques Rousseau

Essay, April 26, 1989

Picture a black, moonless night.  Picture yourself working your way up a mountain, a mountain so tall that the peak is not in sight.  You have climbed and climbed for what seems like forever, and you wonder if you will ever reach a plateau.  Forced to stumble on in darkness, you curse and cry of the cruel fate which pushed you to this endless mountainside. 

For so long you have walked alone, frightened and cold, that you ignore the paths which spring up beside you and lead in unknown directions.  Sometimes you hesitate, tempted by the chance of finding a better route, but you kill the longing by reminding yourself that this mountain is all you know and it is all you have.  Do not take chances – do not stray off the road which has always supported and welcomed you

You took a different path once.  And even though it was beautiful, and even though it was warm and inviting, it was not the easy way you had been led to believe.  It too was a struggle, and you were not prepared to face the difficulties ahead.  In anger and confusion you turned to your mountain, and now your mountain forces you to painfully remember the path you once knew.  Do not take another risk although you do not know whether or not the risk is as dangerous as you once believed.

You have poured every ounce of your energy into scaling your mountain.   If you abandoned your mountain, you might not have any life left inside of you.  No matter what you have been told, you know that they mountain They call Hate will never break your heart and lie to you, as the mountain Love did long ago.

Notebook, 2013

Because you are the waving gun         

Because you are the last admission

Don’t blame me for your bleeding gums

You are the one who brushed them

Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.
- Anais Nin

Notebook, June 19, 1990

Forgiveness will infect me

slowly.

Poison for me to swallow.

Oh, but how much better

I will feel.

How much better I will

feel.

Hate is nothing precious,

nothing scarce.

And my love for you,

so out of touch.

This love I have lost for you,

I never hope to find again.

Yet, let forgiveness color

my memories.

Let it color my

reality.

Because it surely will.

For now I will remember,

because one day I will

forget.

And when I am surprised

once again,

never worry—

you never need to worry.

Forgiveness will come.

Diary entry, February 3, 1983

Mom is back home today FOR GOOD!

Email, May 18, 2005

Thanks for the email, I’m fine.

I’m surprised that you would think anything is wrong.

Nothing is wrong, just like you did these past several months I’ve been taking time for myself to work on things.  But I appreciate your concern.  Everything is fine.   I hope you had a nice birthday.  Your boyfriend sounds nice.  Unfortunately we aren’t having visitors right now, but thanks for the offer.

I hope your job’s going well.

Love, me