“If there was more common sense in this world, there would be less lawyers and crooks and more lovers and people like Jesus and Buddha.” Mother Teresa
I saw this quote in a stall in the Reading Terminal Market just now. I’m not sure if I’ve got it right since I couldn’t find it online and it may have been made up or misattributed. In any event, I think it’s pretty dead on.
Just stumbled across this one:
“For true success ask yourself four questions: Why? Why not? Why not me? Why n
People say that poetry and art and music are useless, but what is the point of life without them. People want to make things, do things, earn things- they so rarely want to dream things. But what is the point of life without dreams?
So I was at Reading Terminal Market doing what I’ve done for what’s now 3 weeks in a row. Coming up with a little routine. The first time I did it I thought of Y and how much he would have loved it.
I got some cheese fries and a wrap and a whoopie pie. Dawns on me now that we got whoopie pies the last time we saw each other. I liked them long before that though.
So as I sat there reading Le Petit Prince and making my list of stuff to do this week ad treating myself to a nice little meal, I wondered why I was eating cheese fries. I wondered why i was there, with all those people crowded on a Sunday. I realzed that i was lonely. Not necessarily unhappy, but lonely.
And I continued to go through the motions of this routine I made for myself, the food and the books keeping me company. Enjoying my calorie splurge meal.
I must have looked a little sad because the guy who sold me my whoopie pie asked me how i was doing. i replied” Ok, how are you?” He said, “Great, I’m alive.”
I realized milling there among all the families and friends and boyfriends and girlfriends something special. Loneliness is what turns strangers into friends and lovers. That is why he, (he being Y), asked me how I was doing everyday and why he didn’t let it be just a fling.
And loneliness is why my heart is heavy and I’m typing this in a Starbucks near but not with people. Even though I just went out and had a nice time with my best friends in my program who I have the grace to see everyday, and with whom I should now be working on a project, and even though I’m going to go to meditation class and listen with a little bit of fear at what my heart will tell me with the same people as last week. This is why I’m so jealous of pretty much all of my close friends who are in relationships or have close circles of people in their lives. Even though a friend from a million years ago called me last night and we are good friends and I can pour my heart out to her, and my crush of over a year and the guy I would have picked out of the man store is only a text away these days and I finally heard from him that he cared for me but the distance was too great, my heart still feels heavy. I don’t know if the space in my heart is for Y, who I truly barely knew, but somehow I was less alone when he was in my life. And I miss him, and will miss him. I still hope he calls. I could call him now. Even though that would probably show it was an empty threat and all and I don’t want to force myself on him.
But maybe if I write in the subject line of the email, PS I miss you, that would be ok. And it would be a less cruel way to say goodbye. And it might make me feel a little more Christian about the whole thing. Done!
The truth is that right now, I could go anywhere and do almost anything. I’m sad about the slight loss to my freedom that these loans and this education program entails, but really I could do anything that doesn’t break my heart too much. Too bad the only way to find your path is to be on it, and to trust that you are going in the right direction, if not in the most direct way. The quest is not easy.
there is no number of beautiful full libraries, no amount of miles, no multitude of countries or sunsets seen or mountains climbed that will dazzle me out of loneliness.
I don’t even think there are enough hungry children in the world to feed and clothe and educate and love. Maybe that would ease it, and if I were indeed Mother Teresa I would be filled by it. But I am not Mother Teresa, and there’s a part of my soul that is fragile and sad and vulnerable.
There’s no amount of mastery or expertise or Noble Prizes or money or genius or contributions to the heritage of the earth that can overcome this sweet, sharp aching.
I don’t know if the hole in my heart is in the shape of him, but I do know it’s there.
Of what use are wings if you have to climb the sky alone?