“Life is hardly more than a fraction of a second.
Such a little time to prepare oneself for eternity!”
Paul Gauguin
comfort zone
“There are nights when the wolves are silent and
only the moon howls.”
George Carlin
That fight was awful: the worst one. Children fled to the far reaches of their house but there would be no escaping unscathed. Simply knowing it was still happening in their absence was difficult enough. They didn’t need to know the details to know it was bad. A blatant accusation of infidelity flew like daggers from her lips; swords shooting from Carolyn’s eyes, impaling Roger from across the kitchen, leaving him pinned and wriggling to the wall. He argued and then denied it with an uncharacteristic weakness in his voice then left the house abruptly, his car tearing from the yard as if it were a bandage maliciously removed from the surface of the fresh wound; raw and bloody. A pernicious exchange left her drained; despondent. His response, his demeanor confirmed all of her suspicions. Trust was gone, never to return. Carolyn did not believe a word her husband uttered in his own defense… not a single word of it… and he knew it. That’s why he left. Void of hope for a tattered, unraveling marriage, she remembered how their savage words had rung through the valley, trembling along currents of cool spring air, dispersing into the cosmos; the dissonant bells of a funeral procession. He would not confess. The man neither requested nor required absolution. Ever staunch and resolute, he stormed from the house, stomping through the muck and mire of soft, porous earth. The foot soldier had his marching orders and was determined to carry out the charge: dismissed. Carolyn considered him a deserter… in every conceivable way. Split the scene… stage left. Hit the road. The pain in her heart was supernatural. She could barely breathe.
What the woman was certain she knew had been gnawing at the lining of her empty stomach for several days, devouring her from inside out. Though she tried to keep it away from her children, it was obvious to all. Something had gone terribly wrong; something of this world. As their dutiful mother, she had no choice but to persevere. Simply because she’d perceived her life was in shambles was no reason to abandon her young. Assuming her responsibilities did not end with a marriage. Carolyn had taken Christine to Chepachet for a dentist appointment earlier that afternoon, waiting behind in the car while her daughter went into the office alone. She could not drag herself from the vehicle… too wounded to move.
Carolyn had wept throughout the day while her children were in school, affording her grief some privacy. But there were places to go and people to see. She remained behind in the car because she was self-conscious and well knew she was incapable of sitting in an office waiting room and pretending nothing was wrong when, in fact, everything was wrong. After the dentist finished the procedure Chris went to the desk and realized her mother had not given her a check to pay the fee. She excused herself and ran out to the car only to find the woman bereft, crumpled on the seat, wiping her face with some dirty rag from the floorboard. She heard Christine’s gentle knock at the window and tried to stifle her tears, to keep this horrible breach from her children, but they all knew something awful had happened. They knew their mother’s heart was broken. Chrissy returned to the car once she paid the bill then the two traveled home in silence. The child reached out and held her mother’s hand. She knew without asking, this was a crisis unlike any other they had faced as a family.
Though it had been a gut-wrenching day, possibly the worst of her life, it was far from over. April, about to turn ten had a celebration to attend, a party being thrown in her honor. Her friend Felicia had planned it and April still needed a ride to Pascoag, then home again a few hours later. Carolyn had to suppress the anger and an all-consuming grief to make it through dinner then get her youngest daughter to the festivities on time. It needed to be all about April this night; a mother swallowed back the tears before they ever reached her swollen, bloodshot eyes.
The house remained quiet that evening. Roger never returned home; the girls did their chores and homework without as much as a nudge from their mother. Wandering the farmhouse, awaiting the notice of a telephone call to come retrieve her daughter, Carolyn busied herself with a series of mindless, mundane little chores, avoiding only the washing of mirrors so she would not have to behold the face of despair. Keeping a distance from her children did not shield them from her vacancy, an essence void of hope. This time she failed to keep a secret. The palpable poisonous vapor spread throughout the dwelling like an airborne virus, attacking the system of all it encountered. No soul was immune from an insidious disease running rampant throughout the household. Each in their own way, children mourned with her, though they didn’t yet know why. They knew it was bad. They all sensed the marriage was coming unglued.
Their father would return in time and would privately make amends for whatever infraction occurred. However, on this cold night in March, no one could imagine that time would come. It felt like a tearing and shredding of the fabric of the universal shroud. It felt final. Carolyn took the call and left the house in silence. Everyone knew where she was going. Everyone knew not to ask to go along. It was understood; she needed time to be alone and as big as their house was, it did not afford the privacy to scream from the core of her being. No estate afforded space enough to muffle such an outcry.
Squelching the disgust, Carolyn plastered on the brightest smile she could possibly muster for her daughter. April was thrilled to see her and she had a wonderful time with her friends. They’d laughed and chatted along the way while a mother, turning on the dashboard light, glanced over at April’s haul as the child proudly displayed her numerous gifts. Carolyn made a real effort to engage her in conversation with her then almost-ten-year-old and did well with it most of the way home, assuming a far more quiet demeanor as they approached the house. The interior glow had to go: Extinguished. It was not just a distraction while driving. Feeling suddenly self-conscious with her own child, Carolyn was afraid the harsh light would reveal the equally severe pain, afraid as she was to expose the truth on her face. She didn’t want April to see by the light an absence of it in her mother’s moist eyes. It had been a special night, a celebration, and it had to stay that way.
Relieved Roger had not returned, Carolyn pulled the car into their yard. She was prepared to keep going, as if she had missed the turn but thankfully the driveway was empty. April ran inside with packages dangling from both arms, anxious to show her sisters how kind her friends had been. She knew such folly would take a few minutes, so Carolyn lingered outside, taking cool air into hot lungs through her raw throat, still burning with the strain of choking back angry tears. She looked up… for a variety of reasons. God! The New Moon was well-hidden, lurking behind shadows, somewhere in the sky. Evading detection, there was no empirical evidence indicating its existence and yet she knew it was there like the spirits; same principle. The night was dark as chocolate; stars shone brightly against an infinite velvety backdrop: Heavenly. A shroud of mist lay draped across the valley floor and there she stood, wondering if she’d remain this way forever, wondering what would come next. Succumbing to sheer exhaustion, Carolyn decided to enter the house and go straight to bed.
Gathered together in the parlor, a mother did not want to explain herself to the children so she made an abrupt right turn in the front hallway and went up to Nancy’s room instead of going into her own. Without speaking it aloud, the girls provided their mother with a wide girth: some space and time to heal. It was over. A day to forget was done though no one would forget it. Carolyn had crawled beneath the rumpled quilt of an invitingly unmade bed, allowing her heavy head to plunge and then sink into the pillow. Instantly, a series of severe images and savage words flooded into her mind. She wept; a necessary release. As a means of ridding her wounded soul of the ravages of conflict, she wept her rage away, vowing to expel him from her system one teardrop at a time, if necessary. Darkness trapped behind her eyelids was a b
lack hole in the cosmos. All was lost. She’d found something out.
The day had been chocked full of responsibilities she simply could not avoid so she struggled through in spite of the chronic urge to lay her body down to die. Carolyn drove her daughter to the dentist and sent her in alone; out of character for a mother attentive to details. As the inquest with Roger went badly, to say the least, the suspect fled; he split the scene. The birthday party in Pascoag; to and fro, Carolyn was surprised she had any energy left with which to think. Her muffled cries attracted someone’s attention.
Though noise in her head was overpowering, Carolyn heard the quick click of the latch from the chimney closet. The sound was distinct, different than any other door in the house. Her face was buried but her ears were exposed. She heard the door open and close… gently, as if someone was peeking in on her to see if she was all right; a caring gesture. Then the floorboards began to creak beneath the weight of a curious soul. A moment later, this weight was lowered into the seat of a wicker rocking chair in the corner of the room. Whomever it was settling in then began to slowly rock forward and backward in a lilting rhythm, causing her to begin drifting off to sleep. Murmuring “thank you” beneath her breath, there was no response. She turned to see which one of her own had made the trek upstairs to stay beside her mother. Carolyn turned to view the empty chair, still rocking to and fro, peacefully providing her with a comforting backdrop; a familiar sound meant to soothe the restless soul. She was not in the least bit startled by the sight. Instead, she smiled faintly and rested her head on the pillow again, listening to the creaking floor and cracking wicker while it rocked her empathetically off to sleep.
When Carolyn awoke from her nap the spirit was not gone. She was still in the chair but silent, having allowed Carolyn some undisturbed sleep. She gratefully accepted the presence beside the bed and did not question why she was there. She knew why. An understanding; the bond of trust was forged that evening. It was a transformational moment for the woman. She did not resist the assistance from one spirit she had, for years, perceived to be her tormentor. They shared a mutual comprehension of pain as a few moments spent together in the comfort zone proved. Perhaps they had something in common. Perhaps the spirit had known her grief or had a similar sense of loss in life and could relate to such desperate turmoil. Whatever drew this particular spirit to the pitiful mortal was based on compassion. Of this, there was no doubt. Carolyn is still certain of it. They remained in silence for several minutes before the entity left the room the same way she’d arrived then gently closed the latch as she went back into the closet. It was profound communication, an act of trust and an abiding sense of friendship present in the room where company was kept at night. Still cold and feeling vulnerable, Carolyn sensed the warmth of their encounter seeping into her psyche, lighting the way. Of this she was certain. The visitor had been a woman.
“True silence is the rest of the mind, and is to the spirit
what sleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment.”
William Penn
common sense
“Our ancestors worshipped the Sun, and
they were not that foolish.
It makes sense to revere the Sun and the stars,
for we are their children.”
Carl Sagan
If reason and enlightenment are due to arrive on the threshold together, best be prepared for guests. Jean Paul Sartre regarded the age of reason as an awakening of human consciousness; the self-awareness which evolves naturally during the aging process. Andrea was not exempt from this process and was actively involved in seeking out something meaningful to satisfy an urgency to know evermore. As a mortal mind develops it assimilates complex concepts; synthesizing the significance of each as they pertain to life, discerning what the common and uncommon senses divulge. Humans generally keep what works and shed the rest in accordance with their own personal comfort level. Some decisions appear to be self-evident. Others require sustained thought and contemplation. Not all issues are resolved; not all relationships are reconciled. Much of what she was hearing offended her rather uncommon sensibilities. Most of it didn’t make any sense at all. Perceiving herself as a child of God, Andrea could not quite grasp why she had even bothered with a struggle to fit the construct, the Roman Catholic ideology. Questioning everything became a pathway to disaster; rejection. Likewise, it provided another pathway leading to understanding. It was true. She was a philosophical misfit. The more she learned about it, the less she concurred with the creed, doctrine and dogma of a religion she had been born into, through no fault of her own. The only good reason to stay and learn more she didn’t believe was an abiding friendship. In the final analysis it wasn’t a good enough reason. No one abandoned her simply because she had abandoned the church that gave her up for dead to them. In the final analysis she found it was an institution which preached tolerance yet practiced the worst kind of intolerance, hypocritically expelling a child of God from its midst. Shame on them… . just when she needed them most, or so she thought at the time.
As in any relationship, it isn’t until hindsight kicks in that people discover what was so wrong with the union in the first place, why it was a blessing bestowed to be over and what to avoid in the future. At some point, in retrospect, folks look back on their lives in amazement, wondering how all of the pieces fit so tightly together, after all. When it all begins to make sense, they realize how everything had to happen precisely the way it did, involving the specific cast of characters. It is not unusual to reflect on how the events and apparent “coincidences” and happenstance of life had to happen then coalesce into a cohesive story which brought them to the place where they arrive… at the point of epiphany. It is a journey worthy of examination. Employing her God-given attribute as a possession of good, sound common sense, the child of God began to peer inward rather than seeking solace outside herself. It was then the real journey began. All else had been a prelude, part of the learning process which would eventually light her path all on its own. Soon she realized that her mortal existence was significant merely because she existed. To live in good faith is good enough. It is difficult to awaken to the truth, to be the light rather than to seek it. Spiritual enlightenment is no easy feat and will prove quite painful at times. It is the bravest of the brave who confront their demons.
As Andrea reflects upon the journey thus far, she must humbly admit to being dazzled, mesmerized, and beholden to the sights seen. In retrospect, with the benefit of hindsight (an essential resource for the purpose of contemplation) a decade spent at the farm was a source of pure enlightenment. She has no choice but to look back on it with wide-eyed wonder at a time which made all the difference. Yet, at the time, it made no sense at all. In the aftermath of an experience which literally altered her life expectancy, changing an overall perspective of life, it was actually an extraordinary gift; a message well-received. It takes time to process what all three eyes behold; time to make sense of what appears nonsensical. When logic and reason are blatantly defied, immutable laws of the universe challenged, it then becomes incumbent upon any thinking human being to assess their surroundings by way of a different path, perhaps a long walk in the woods. The sixth sense is an equally common sense at our disposal. When utilized to perceive a complicated environment it yields simple conclusions; common senses lead to uncommon knowledge. It seems a circuitous route to wisdom. With all due respect extended to the spirits who still reside within those walls, Emerson was correct. “Knowledge is the antidote to fear.”
“Any one who has common sense will remember that
the bewilderments of the eyes are of two kinds,
and arise from two causes, either from coming out of the light
or from going into the light, which is true of the mind’s eye,
quite as much as of the bodily eye; and he who
remembers this when he sees any one whose vision is
perplexed and weak, will not be too ready to laugh;
&nb
sp; he will first ask whether that soul of man has come out
of the brighter light, and is unable to see because
unaccustomed to the dark, or having turned from darkness
to the day is dazzled by excess of light.”
Plato The Republic
act of god
“The soul of man is immortal and imperishable.”
Plato
They were kindred spirits, Carolyn and Fran: Soul sisters. No two friends ever closer, they did not waste much time commiserating about husbands or problems they had in common. Instead, they were each other’s escape for years, having been devoted and trusted confidantes. Their adventures were legendary (and infamous) and their spirits were highest when they shared space and time together. It was a pure and perfect love… something sacred.
House of Darkness House of Light Page 44