Half Empty and Burning

There is so much misunderstanding between us, the common members of a human race. Little slights mushroom into huge disputes, often based on nothing at all.

You do this, I think that.

I say this, you infer that.

You imply this, I hear that.

It sometimes seems as if our cup can only be half-full, given our conditioning, no matter who we are or where we grew up. Even if this is one of the last moments in history where it is true, we are still tribal people, casting around anxiously for others who seem familiar.

Thus, tonight, in honor of our collective predicament, worldwide, I am burning a candle in a half-bottle. Its odd configuration represents our uncertain purchase on this planet. None of us can be certain who we are anymore, or how that connects with our individual family histories.

***

Last night, after they were all three asleep, I went into my living room, where my kids have insisted on sleeping since before Christmas, when I allowed it out of a wish to help that season feel magic to them, as it did to me in my childhood, in Royal Oak in the '50s.

It was Dylan's turn to sleep on the couch, and once he'd completed his art project, which was the object of my previous post today, he snuggled in under the covers and fell into a deep sleep. His gorgeous red curly hair stuck out from his blanket, on our rare warm night. After all, as he so precisely noted earlier last night, "we lose 75% of our body heat through our heads," which is one of his explanations of why he always wears his Russian Red Army Cossack hat at night, at day, and usually at all points in-between.

But last night he didn't, thus my view of his angelic curls.

Meanwhile, on the mattress on the floor slept Julia (8) and Aidan (12), side by side. These two have such a chemical aversion to each other at times that the tension is palpable. Until very recently, they often broke into violent fights -- kicking, hitting, yelling -- followed by the inevitable tears and protestations that the other was the one truly at fault.

I don't know if they are maturing, or if they sense my inability to handle their fights any longer, but this past weekend we had no fights -- that's right, zero!

Sleeping next to each other last night they looked like the most innocent of angels. They even agreed to switch sides so each one had the side of the mattress (s)he felt most comfortable on.

***

When I was a child, my mother went through a particularly difficult stretch when she seemed to feel that everyone was out to hurt her feelings. I listened to her stories and I felt sorry for her, and silently I seethed with anger at those who had offended her.

Slowly, however, I began to perceive that these were her battles, not mine. I'm not sure she sensed the change in me, because in her eyes we were truly fused. Thus, when I started liking certain girls in my teens, she immediately saw that and made a point to surface my attractions to the whole family.

That was the kiss of death to my feelings for any girl. There was no way I was going to substantiate my mother's theories. Thus, did my sexuality migrate underground.

***

All of us, in our 30's, 40's and 50's, experience the inevitable loss of friends and lovers. Life seems to spin us around in circles, sending some of those we love most out of our grasp, much like an astronaut whose lifeline has been snipped fades away into endless space, soundlessly.

There are no words as we lose each other; there are no sounds.

Just the empty sadness and regret at what seemed to be combined with what we imagined might have been.

My advice, tonight, as a half-bottle holds my white candle burning brightly in this strangest of nights, is this: Don't turn away from your feelings. Don't turn away from the people you love.

Resolve to bring the other half of your bottle to the party, and make both of you whole again. Life is so short! What are you going to do about the wildness of it all? What?

As for me, I burn this candle in the night, as I eat comfort foods and listen to comfort music. Later I will read uncomfortable books and maybe watch The Daily Show, for relief. Of course, my glass remains half-full, but that doesn't mean I can't laugh about it...

-30-