May Old Acquaintances Be Forgot...

Today I decided that I wanted to spend Mother's Day relaxing at the local State Park. I grabbed a chair, something to read, and headed out the door. It used to be one of my old haunts, always good vibes there. I deposited some money in the bank, grabbed a mango-strawberry frozen drink from Taco Bell and headed in that direction, way out in the country. I decided (for whatever reason) to stop by my old friend's house and see if she wanted to ride along, since I had to pass by it on the way. We had touched base, briefly, when I first came back from Germany, then when my father died two years ago, then more recently I had run into her up town, and later we had a quick conversation over the phone. She was my old running buddy from way back when. It was, with her, that I learned to drink and smoke cigarettes. She was two years older than me, and I still remember the time she walked across the living room floor, towards my bedroom, and we could hear the beer cans clinking together that she had sneaked into her hair curler bag, so we could smoke and drink in my room, late into the night. I was 16 or 17, she was 18 or 19. I guess you could say I lost my innocence back then, though it was all really innocent, still. She was the little "hottie" that all the guys wanted to date. She always wore hip-hugger pants to show off her beautiful tummy, with a matching halter top, and had a tan to die for. She had a great sense of humor, though as I look back, she was silly beyond measure. She still is today, but, in my older years, I sense it to be at an annoying level. And I, I was the plain-jane left-over that always ended up double dating the friend of whatever new guy she was dating. And that's the way it always went.

The last conversation I had with her, over the phone, she had been trying to convince me to come and hear her sing at the church we grew up in. She knew that I had stopped attending church, long ago, and could not fathom why. She asked me, "Is the reason you don't want to go to church, is it because of the way you've lived your life??" I didn't know exactly what she meant, and she then added, "Because if that's why, gosh you know nobody's gonna judge you, and I'd be the last to judge you." I could already feel that she wasn't going to just let me back into her life without trying this same old attempt that partly drove me away from the Christian church... that need to push guilt, pull in, and make one feel "less than" if you aren't a church goer. And I clearly did feel judgement, regardless of her words. Mostly, I felt she was passing judgement on her own past, and using that to gauge my own conscious. I was never like her... never... but we had a lot of fun. I see those times as wild and crazy growing up years... while she obviously regrets a few of the lines she might have stepped over. She was the extrovert, I was the shy one who tagged along.

We both married, but I went into 70's era late hippie-dom, while she went in another direction. We would both have unsuccessful marriages (more than one, both of us). While she would turn her straying years into reasons for remorse and guilt, I would look outside the box for explanations on everything. After all, I had been "experienced". I would continue to seek and discover the wonders of the Universe... and try to move on from the stiffly controlled past. I find nothing about her current expression of living that I desire for my own life. When her father died, she hated her mother for breaking out and going out dancing. When her brother died, she said, "Well, it's about time, he drove my mother crazy." He had once been a strapping young, good-looking jock. He died a skeletal looking alcoholic with his liver destroyed, and pancreas all eaten up. It was sad. I could never have said what she said. But, that's not me. She had found that statement humorous, I suppose. When I told her I was a receptionist at the local mental health place, she said, "Well, you''ll probably see my entire family there." She had told me, once, years ago, that the way she deals with the unpleasant things is to pretend that it's a messy room, and close the door, so she doesn't have to look at it. That may be the best way, for some, but it's never worked for me. I wish I knew that trick.

Unexpectedly, her youngest sister was there, when I knocked on her door. The last time I had seen her she was a teenager with long blonde hair. Here she was, all grown up, children of her own. We hit it off right away. Somehow, we got on the conversation of cooking and spices, and wasabi. My friend HATES the stuff (she's a true southerner, all the way)... her sister and I both LOVE the stuff. I said, "That stuff will blow the top of your head off!" ... and J said, "That's right! That's the way I describe it, it feels like someone just peeled the top of your scalp back!" To that, I added, "It's a real crown chakra opener!" She knew exactly what I meant. I wasn't quite sure how I knew that she would know what a chakra was, but I knew, somehow, that she did. And she did. You have to understand... where I come from, people never heard of chakras before... and if they ever did, you can be sure they would call it the devils work. Before long, we were talking about Tai and Indian food, and my friend was saying, "Hey, I'll buy the food and make the tea, you can buy all those spices you're talking about, and you two can come over and cook!" It sounded like a deal.

Before long, my friend's sister showed me the necklace she was wearing. It was the Hindu symbol for ohm. This led into more conversation about healing and channeling Reiki. This was clearly freaking my friend out, and she says, "Hey, I'll make a deal with ya'll... I won't talk about God and church anymore, if you won't talk about all that stuff."

As our conversations transpired, I said less, while the sister felt compelled to explain her beliefs. I had done all this before, with my own family, and knew that it was a hopeless cause, and one that I wanted to waste no more energy on. I could see my friend getting uppity and arrogant, although she fained not. She pretended to try and understand our beliefs and reasoning, all the while throwing things in our direction that were plainly meant to be deprecating.

It was sad, really. Yet, I felt a kindred spirit with the sister, for I knew the struggle that she must have endured, to have risen from the place of fear and cast-out-edness... just as I had. I was in disbelief as my friend said, "Well, WHO DO you serve?" My answer was this, "Well, Bob Dylan says 'ya gotta serve somebody'... and I don't serve the devil." I thought that was funny, but I'm sure she didn't even get it. Clearly, she is still fear based, in so far as religion goes. Clearly, I am glad that I escaped that. The words "channeling" and "reiki" and the sound of ohm threw her right off center, because she fears what she does not understand. When she wanted to know what we did to "serve the Lord" (because, for her, church going is serving the Lord)... I said, "You know, we are all an aspect, or face, of the Creator," ... and the word Creator threw her off, she didn't respect that, why don't I just say God??? ... "and I believe that we have the opportunity serve "God" everyday, in everything that we do... by showing love, acceptance, and compassion towards those that cross our Path, instead of judgment and anger." "I find my communion with the Creator, out in nature... the Wind on my face, the Sun shining down on me." She didn't get that, she was all caught up in "works"... and the devil.

A few years ago, someone that I met gave me a business card. He said he knew my friend, to tell her family hello. A few weeks ago, I ran across it. As we sat there, I remembered the card, but couldn't remember the name. As it turned out, we figured out that it was the ex brother-in-law of the sister... and I couldn't help but wonder about what had been set in motion, this possible connection. I felt a bond with her, because we had both broke outside the teeny tiny box that we had grown up in. Although I had gone there to visit my friend, it felt as though the real reason I had been drawn there, was to get to know the little sister (she's 48, I'm 55... not so little, anymore!). To truly understand the difficulty of switching over from one religion to an entirely different set of spiritual beliefs, one has to have walked in those shoes... and gosh knows I have. I gave her my email address, but even if she never contacts me, I hope our contact gave her more strength to walk her own Path, and not be susceptible to the fears that her family has. For me, it was just another reminder, another connection, to stay on my Path... and I've had more than one, the last couple of weeks.

I never did make it out to the park. I guess what happened was meant to be. I wonder, then, how many times things are set in our Path, that we do not follow up on. Like the business card, placed in my hand, a couple of years ago. I guess, in life, there are always choices... lately, I've been taking the ones that lead me back home... the familiar places in my Heart. By Heart, I don't mean "conditioning"... I mean the places that feel natural to me, and of my own choosing.

For so long, I've envied those "girlfriends" out there who have been friends for their entire lives... they've grown up together, "experienced" together, been there through thick and thin... and will probably die being friends. I've missed those sorts of bonds. I've always walked a different Path, to the beat of a different drummer... strayed from the pack that I first ran with... found new packs, ran a while, there. I've never stayed the safe course, always veering off in some other direction. to the scent of something new and intriguing. I even wondered, briefly, from time to time, if I might find deeper happiness and reconnection by going back into that box that it took me so long to escape from. After seeing the stagnant non-growth in my friend, set in her hard, judgemental ways.... perhaps I am glad I don't have those kinds of friends... even if it means Walking my Path alone.

These days, there is strength in being alone. No one to steal my energy... and I can't help but wonder if all the emotional/mental problems that my friend spoke of, regarding her family, are not wrought by the very conditioned way in which we were brought up, in that tiny little box. It can make you crazy, trying to get out of it!