Anniversary

September 11, 2009

200 mg Depakote

Mood – 7 out of 10 (where 10 is God’s orgasm)

Today is the anniversary of the loss of my kidney and the death of my business career.

It is 4:30 a.m.

I grind the coffee. The coffee comes from Café del Sol a cooperative that supports people in need. The grinder looks as if it might be a transformer in disguise; red metal, two feet tall with a huge mouth of a lid to receive the beans. It makes short work of the pound or two of coffee that I put in.

Once more I am at Uptown Bill’s Small Mall, about which my brother said, “You would be lost without that place wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah. I suppose. Or at least someplace like it,” was my reply.

I am grinding the coffee and doing a little clean up as payment for my parking space this morning. I would park near my apartment but the students are back at the University and there are no spaces. My off-street parking in the alley is filled by someone else’s car. Once again, the Mall is the place of easiest refuge.

I look around for another task. The water cooler is at the end of the table where I sit. The bottle is empty. Just a second while I change it. There. The bubbles rise to the top in a hypnotic pattern as the water fills the cooler.

Simple.

Help out a bit.

Grind coffee.

Watch bubbles.

Write.

Feel better.

Why is it such a challenge to remain focused on just helping out bit and then relaxing to enjoy the present moment?

As they say, if I knew the answer to that one I would write a book. Wait a moment. I did write a book. It didn’t have any answers for anyone but me, and that answer was simple – just be Dale. Do not take on any great causes. Do not feel that I have to fulfill anyone else’s desires for whom or what they expect me to be. Care and be kind to others but do not take on their pain and try to carry it as if it were my own. A tall order to be sure but one I must follow if I want to stay free of hospitals; if I want to be present enough to see a butterfly as it lands on my arm. Just now there are no butterflies. It is night outside. There is a fly under the neon. It lands on the table just outside my reach. Its wings reflect a prism of light when I look closely. It is enough. Did I rate my mood as 7 on a scale of 10? Make that a 7.5.