Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Sing an Excusatory Note.

"I just don't like fighting," he said. "Or drama. I don't like wasting my energy on so many details of life that grab at me like thorns until my flesh is pulled down by the enormous weight of the earth."

She looked at him and he was encouraged to continue.

"I prefer learning to bear the lightness of being. I find my salvation in big, silent spaces and unspoken relationships. I want wind that pulls my breath away on a mountain vista. I live for transitions, where the sky and earth invade each other. Then the weight becomes my roots, holding me upright, nourishing me.

"I need to be engaged in the production of my own values. I strive to understand myself and my universe, with insatiable curiosity I am always trying to make things better. These are the terms on which I understand my world. This is how I make sense out of so much life. I live to serve.

"So I'm sorry it didn't work out. I'm so sorry, because to me this was as beautiful as any other thing, but it has become tedious, and encrusted, and I can't bear it any longer. I need...

a clean break."

She nodded, and slumped imperceptibly. He quivered. He took this as a signal of her love, and smiled. He knew she understood, but was occasionally terrified when faced by his own lack of understanding. He hoped they could still be friends.

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