i was thinking the other day about obstacles... to the point that I considered getting out my little Ganesha statue and slogging into town with him perched on the seat by my side, perhaps to serve as my little prompt and visual aid for the class I had to teach, a cute little something to serve as inspiration and muse. Ganesha - remover - but also placer - at times - of obstacles -
cuz I had broken down the night before..... for the 6th night in a row where my baby would not sleep nor cease nursing even after two straight hours attached to my body, draining what little nourishment I felt was still in me... sucking, suckling... delicately taking and sipping away... restless.. crying..... and my husband lay fast asleep beside me.. so tired he said... after two days spent snowboarding - down perfect, powdery slopes .. again.. after two weeks, of beautiful 75 degree waves.. rolling ceaselessly into shore, and him atop them. in a south american postcard... while i sat at home with our sick baby... yellow goo pouring out of every orifice.. eyes glued shut with the thick nastiness of it. and he’s riding waves... and he’s eating tacos,/// drinking beer and smiling.. his skin turning a delicate brown... and I think there’s snot on my shirt where the baby finally dozed off....
and i don’t begrudge him the waves... the sun.. the expanse or pleasure of it all. quite the contrary i’m happy to have him go - take deep breaths and re-remember what it is to feel light and free in a human body once more - before mortgages and business ventures and fatherhood and hell, the arduous task of even being married - took hold - secured the “provider & protector” cap so tightly on his head - that it made it hard to breathe... or throw his head back in a gesture of sheer delight...
i want him to know that joy.. that abandon.. that peace.. that once constituted the mainstay of his days.. before all this.. before me.. before bills and homesteads and all of that... i want him to be free... at peace.. but right now.. i want him to fucking wake up. take this screaming baby.. and let me bury my head in this lumpy old pillow - and weep...
because we are ten days into the new year and already i have abandoned my virtuous juicing and salads regime.... because i was doing so good... staying up late while the sick baby slept.. and admiring my slowly emerging svelte-esque form... trying on the clothes that hadn’t fit for so long.. admiring the new hollowness of my body... so good.. so good... it’s finally happening, said the quiet smug voice in the still wee hours of the morning.. but now the baby is crying.... and i’ve eaten cereal for 3 straight days in a row.... sat on the couch, gazing into the annals of the television for hours on end, instead of going outdoors, running, doing yoga - or making the salads i ought to be making... chopping carrots, chewing celery... and the scale says two pounds heavier than it did the day before... and i’ve been chubby and unhappy my whole damn life and blah blah blah.... and nothing.. no nothing’s ever gonna turn out the way i want it to. absolutely nothing..
and then i’m coming down the drive.. doing my usual breathless whisper of prayers as i vacantly speed off toward my day... remembering if i can to say thank you... for a strong body and a healthy beautiful baby... for a sweet good man and a beautiful family... for the mellifluous opportunities and blessings that accompany my life on a near daily basis.... thank you thank you.. i remember i remember... and then... may my words be a blessing... use this body.. use this voice... may it be.... and bla bla bla..
and on the radio there’s a kid in a tree - and you can hear it - the smile in his voice - though he’s been there since before christmas... spent it up there on a platform shitting in a bucket and subsisting off stale bulk granola and powdered soy milk.... though he’s fighting probably a losing battle - him and a handful of other doe-eyed-too-young-to know-any-better lovers of trees...up there in the frost and freezing cold evenings squatting on a platform to save 800 acres of trees which are “slated for destruction”... and he’s chatting with the radio announcer with that incessant grin lolloping in his throat... coating the words and silences with their gracious tenacity... it’s beautiful up here he says... and in his voice i can hear it - i believe it must be.. and i hope that he wins.
on to the gym - where i quietly lament the fact that my ipod will not play my favored playlist, another grumbling in addition to the fact that of course i was not granted adequate time to prepare... how am i ever to excel - to exhibit any snippet of my indwelling brilliance, thoroughly covered in dust by this late-night mommy saggy-boobed veneer... how am i ever to shine, damnit... inwardly outwardly.. at all...
use this form and this body... use my voice and these words...
may i be a blessing..
and into the woman’s locker room where my eyes are first accosted by a towel-clad woman... clutching the inadequate cloth to her chest, as her wrinkled mounds of flesh trail absentmindedly behind... slowly, with steps both plodding and painful... her gray head bowed watchfully to the floor... the work she had to do just to get here today.. to bring herself here.. find her way to the morning... ill-fitting spandex swimming suits and latex powdered caps... not enough to cover the stringy hair beneath... what host of ailments resides in this body... that has withstood so many days... months and years.... what loss.. what moment of coming-to-grips with this new encumbrance... a new wave of infirmity... and yet.. she’s here... watchful eyes smiling.... like the voice of the 21-year-old tree lover on the radio... the inwardly upturned edges of lips embossed on cells, livers, thighbones, kidneys, and heart... welling up to meet the surface.... teasing the corners of the face into a glimmer of light... Yes. they seem to say... look at all i have seen.. all that has beset me... what i daily must endure.. and still i am here... i persist... and what’s more... i have joy.
Ganesh.. Ganesha.. Jai Jai... Placer - & Remover of Obstacles...
and I cannot fucking believe myself.. Jesus, Amy. What a lack of eyes - such blind perspective - a life without sight. For even in my little micro-sphere, there exists suffering like I cannot even imagine - problems I have never encountered... stymies I can not conceive... and still I bemoan.. lament... my quaintly tragic outpouring of fate... my baby is sick. i cannot sleep. it is hard to lose these last ten pounds. my hundred dollar piece of handheld machinery is not instantly emitting the sounds of my choosing with the whim of my thumbs. woe am I... oh woe is me....
Ganesha - use my words, my body, my voice.... grant me more obstacles - place them firmly in my path that I may learn - that I may see - may the rocks I encounter grow larger, slippery and opaque - may my fingers and feet grow strong by climbing through the muck you steadfastly place before me - Jai Jai - may my skin emerge bloody and torn, ravaged by thorns and stealthy underbrush... may my breathing turn labored as the ascent before me grows steep, formidable... grand... may i be so utterly absorbed with the climb, immersed in the humming and forceful inhale of breath - that when I finally uplift my head - to take a look around - absorb the view - my eyes - once clouded in puffs of smoke from pursuits trifling, vainglorious & hollow - shall at once be drained clear - tears poured forth from the beauty of effort - and the obstacle I once encountered - the gift of sight - ability to see things clearly and rightly - pupils wide in the full recognition of so much grace abounding in a single life - Jai Ganesha - Jai - keep my worrying hands at work - busy doing good - so that I may finally pry my head out of my own damn ass - and finally - resonantly & gratefully - See. ….
Oh so relatable!
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