Everyday Smushiness
“The earth has music for those who listen.”
I wrote beautifully on my run this morning. The only wee issue is that I didn’t actually write at all. Not unlike writing while falling asleep, but not getting up to actually write anything down, none of it stayed with me in the way I was sure it would. I know there were many bits and pieces about everyday moments -- Pearl having me time him while he solved his Rubik's cube, Mani listening to Joan Armatrading as she settled into her day, Aviva hunkered down in the living room, working on a paper for her sociology class. I must have turned a different direction than usual on a trail today, as I found myself in unfamiliar woods. I was close enough to known territory that I didn't feel lost, but also rather enjoyed the terrain -- planks laid over the soft, leaf-laden forest floor, some solid and some loose, requiring me to be mindful of my feet.
When I finally emerged, it took me a moment to get my bearings, then I headed back up the hill towards town just as the rain started. Five miles later, I was home, the writing I'd been doing in my head evaporated. I'd been listening to a Jewish playlist instead of my usual running playlist; the latter is filled with songs with a good beat that I sometimes use to pace myself -- songs like "All the Single Ladies" and Arcade Fire's "Ready to Start" and Destination Calabria and the goofy but for some reason endearing "Blinding Lights" that I first heard in an episode of How to Get Away with Murder. Anyway, today I was in the mood for something more contemplative, so I turned to Batya Levine, Nava Tehila, and songs with lyrics in Hebrew like hava nashira, shir hallelujah -- let us sing together, sing hallelujah.
The truth is, I have been savoring these past few days of sitting on the couch next to Aviva while she studies or just messes around on her phone. I've been loving choosing holiday gifts for the kids and Mani, and thinking about her kids and their partners and a grandchild on the way. I've spent countless hours on the phone with my sisters and parents as we navigate new territory, health-wise. Somehow the implacable grey sky and steady rain are fitting today; I feel both a solemnity and clarity that comes in moments when one's awareness is heightened -- awareness of how strong and fragile the body is, how strong and fragile life is, how relationships do not take care of themselves but rather require care, how there is no pain quite like not having the chance to say what you needed to say, how there is no ache quite like regretting a closed heart.
Annie Dillard's wisdom floats to mind: "How we spend our days is of course how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour and that one is what we are doing."
Mani was teasing me the other day about how "smushy" I am, and then she made it definitively clear that this was teasing rooted in love, and I just kind of melted (exhibit A of smushiness). So often, I seem to say, "Aaaaaaw, that's nice!" And it's not just some hollow thing; my heart literally feels happy when I get a sweet text from a friend or someone does something thoughtful for someone else under my roof or even on TV. I’d say, maybe it’s silly… but I do not believe that it is. I mean, yes, maybe I am silly! But the sentiment isn’t. It’s very real, and it’s probably one of the most immutable aspects of the personality that we know as me. Because really, isn’t that what we all are – personalities?
Last night, Aviva came into the kitchen to eat about 45 minutes after Pearl and I had finished dinner. I was eating ice cream. For a while, we just sat in silence. Then she brought up something about a dream she’d had, or an aspect of dreaming she was thinking about, and before long we were having a fun conversation about dreams. Pearl must have overheard us (our apartment lends itself to this), and he wandered in and sat down and then the three of us sat around talking about dreams and sleeping sensations and who knows what else and I am telling you – I was in heaven.
Smush, I tell you. I am a sucker for togetherness. Not the forced kind when no one really wants to be there, but the kind that just happens by choice. And at one point, something came up about how incredibly different my kids are, and believe me, they really are. Their personalities could not present more differently, they way they choose to spend time, the way they take up room in the world. And what I said to them both was this: They are both so completely themselves, and that is the thing they share, the fundamental, essential thing they have in common.
Finding common ground beyond that is the work of their relationship, just as it is so often the work of all relationships. Or perhaps that is the very living, working definition of “relationship” in general. Mani and I often talk about how different we are, too, in the world, and yet our innermost selves and values are so very alike. It’s never boring, and thankfully we appreciate each other’s quirks and idiosyncrasies.
The older my kids get and the older my parents get, the more I appreciate the times when we find ourselves sitting at the table. As I ran the last mile or so this morning, I pictured lighting Shabbat candles at my sister’s house. I pictured popping over to my parents’ house for no reason. I pictured hugging people and thought about how the pandemic has given us no choice really but to accept what is off-limits right now. There’s a way in which I don’t dwell on it, because really, what is the point?
But when I do pause now and then to really let it in, oh, I feel the loss of that, and the unseen ripple effect of Covid well beyond Covid itself, the way it has impacted everyone’s lives so profoundly, affected so many other aspects of our physical and emotional health in ways that leave me aghast and also filled with gratitude for what – and who – is still here.
I would like to commence hibernating now, you? Wake me up when the crocuses are poking up and the vaccine is widespread. But in all honesty, I will be here throughout the winter, maybe operating at a slower pace and singing at a lower decibel. If we both lean in close, across the miles, maybe we’ll hear the sounds of each other’s real lives happening.
On that note, a reminder that there is an “off-the-books” Sound of Real Life Happening group slated for December 11-21, with five spaces remaining. This is the one where we write 11 things every day for 11 consecutive days. We’ll end on the Solstice.
If you would like to devote some time to writing during the shortest days and darkest nights of the year, please join us.
Be sure to use the coupon code ENOUGH when you check out for a 25% discount off the regular cost of the group. Register here.
Just click on the photo and scroll down to the “a la carte” section of the coaching page to choose a 30, 60, or 90-minute session. Ener the coupon code at check out.