Tagore writes: "On many an idle day I have grieved over lost time, but it is never lost, O God. You have taken every moment of my life in your own hands."
Liz is struggling with a particular long and arduous meditation song: The Gurugita. Richard from Texas calls it "The Geet". At 182 verses long "and each verse is a paragraph of impenetrable Sanskrit." p. 161
Out of curiosity, I looked it up on-line. This is one line:
"viçvotkérëamanekadehanilayaiù svacchandamätmecchayä |" (no shit, it's impenetrable!)
And, that's even a continuation from a line before that! I looked up a pdf file which was 43 pages long! Mother of God!
I can completely understand why she goes to a monk to excuse her from singing it! I'm discouraged by just looking at one line! And, that was on page 2 of 43! (Ok, enough exclaiming.)
To what seems to be, on the surface, a reasonable request, the monk replies, "Nobody around here is ever going to make you do anything you don't want to do." p. 163. I've had "old timers" say something similar to me too.
It turns out the Gurugita isn't supposed to be fun to sing. "It's a mighty purifying practice. It burns away all your junk, all you negative emotions," the monk goes on to say. "And, I think it's probably having a positive effect on you if you're experiencing such strong emotions and physical reactions . . ."
That was my experience with early sobriety. The whole process of getting sober is meant to free us from ourselves. The struggle was painful. It was like tearing a prisoner who is in the throes of Stockholm Syndrome away from his cell and his captor. To me, that's what alcoholism is: our own personal Stockholm syndrome.
Then, the monk asks Liz a profound question: "What's the alternative?" p. 164. "To quit whenever something gets challenging? To futz around your whole life, miserable and incomplete?"
That's a good question for me right now. If I pan out, it's always a good question. What's the alternative to sobriety, regardless of the struggles? With a sound mind, I usually need go no further than the question.
So, I'm broke right now. I was fired over two weeks ago and Unemployment hasn't kicked in. I wasn't even able to buy my fiancee a flower for Valentines Day. Actually, let's be honest. I was tired and hungry from a long day of class, therapy, a meeting and eating leftovers. Plus, the few remaining dollars I had in my pocket (which was left from what my fiancee loaned me) I was too afraid to let go of. I don't know what I was saving it for. Perhaps, I was saving it to protect myself from the ego gut-check of having to ask her for more money (get a job you lazy hippie!) The "two" of the "one-two" punch to the body is eating for dinner the other half of my fiancee's sandwich she didn't finish for lunch because she new I would be hungry later. The cross to the head, then, was having to ask for loan for therapy because I discovered my checking account was about to go into over-draft.
So, setting aside my personal condemnation on how much my financial crisis is self-inflicted, I must consider this: Now that times are tough, what am I going to do? Give up, like I've done in the past? Back down? Weasel out? Sneak out? Am I going to stay the course or "let myself off the hook"? p. 164. Am I going to "damn the torpedoes" and go "full speed ahead!"? Can I make this work? Can I swallow my pride, learn from my mistakes, live simply and make this financially work?
I seem to have lost sight of the fact that what I'm doing as a writer is legitimate work. I'm still convinced of what was yelled at me when, at the age of 16, I was hunched over the computer writing short stories - that this is goofing-off, or screwing around and that this won't make me any money.
I'm seeing right now how personal and scary this adventure in writing is. This matters very much to me and, let's face it, I'm scared. I'm scared that what was yelled at me was right (now I'm a whiny, lazy hippie). I'm scared I'll be slave to the inherited idea that I need to be busy, working at a job I hate, struggling to earn money and security; and that equals valid contribution to society and life.
But, through the guidance of my spiritual adviser, I've decided to give this a month or two (Liz decided to give the "Geet" seven more days). I have to try. This is meant to be hard. God has given me gifts. He's given me directions, signs, omens along the way. He gave me "beginner's luck" all the way back in 6th grade (I placed 2nd in a state-wide writing competition). I owe 100% and I ought to accept whatever happens, even in the face of the complete, abject and utter failure I fear. Even if the fears come true, I still can get up, dust myself off, find my bearings and try again. Otherwise, what's the alternative?
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