Archive for the ‘epistolary’ Category

Sensitive Friend,

You brought up the story about the most efficient way to fill up a jar with a variety of stones, sand and water and to fit in in as many stones as possible.

As in life, the personal relationship must take precedence.

Wise Friend,

Aren’t you too judgemental by using the word “must?”

Sensitive Friend,

Yes, I am. I’m not running away from being discerning or from “must” and “should”.

May  I go back to the jar analogy?

Wise Friend,

Yep, please.

Sensitive Friend,

One has only one life-as if having only one jar. The number of stones one might be able to store is limited.

My son, still young, doesn’t believe in limits–he thinks resources are either wrongly used or limited temporarily. His response would be, I assume, that if you focus on the large stones and store them carefully, then the jar would get larger for even bigger stones.

Wise Friend,

Maybe he means a pie, not a jar.

Sensitive Friend,

Ha!

My son also meant if you neglect the large stones, you will end up with small ones, sand and water. Why? Because you lost the opportunity to store the large stones in the beginning.

The same with life. Focusing, however, only on the most critical aspects of life might not make your life full. For that, you need to include the small things in life as well – small stones, sand and water.

Moreover, paying attention to most significant events in life (family, people, relationships) would not necessarily ensure full satisfaction. However, one would have more advantages and benefits in life.

Sometimes, if you chose your previous priorities wrongly, you might be able to change directions and repair part of your life. Meanwhile, a lot was wasted. We have to admit, accept and adjust.

There is a limit to analogies when you go down to every detail.

Wise Friend,

All is fine. I probably went through an asthenic moment, but now I’m back on the ground.
Yesterday, while I was still semi-floating, pending your call, I remembered a short story.
A wounded soldier of WWI was laying down in a sanatorium recovering. The sanatorium was in a hilly area. From his room, he could look far away, daily. He could see the courtyard of a woman, whose house was across the hill. Every day, he waited to see her young silhouette, without trying to find an explanation why. The young woman must have noticed, she got an intuition, and one morning, before she went to the animal yard, as she did every day, she opened her window and showed herself naked. That was all she could offer. The solider felt an emotion so intense beyond what the gesture deserved. He took what happened as an endearing present.
I felt like telling you this story and then as you say, “Forget about it.”
Indeed, I felt disconcerted and answered as I have to connect to logical and technical arguments to banish an emotional state which the “meaning” I talked about later. I had to banish that for you your sake as well, (not mine only)  as “this is the last thing you need” (to throw back to you some expression you use).
I wanted to add something to “I need just to say hello…etc”. Did you ever think this might be an extension of a form of communication the basis of which is a physical touch? I refer to effects of discussion that leads to just resting the hand on somebody’s arm. The words don’t matter; they can be sheer banalities or nonsense. The contact via the phone and the sensation of implied simultaneity could be a good substitute.
In the end, this technology seems to be good for something.
I wish you would understand precisely what I want to say (though I’m not sure). Any answer would be OK for me and maybe in equal measure the genuine one, including silence, denying (seriously or only to explain the “need for an excuse” (“comme il faut”, or stating you don’t understand.
I end as I started, with assurances I’m back on the ground. What is left is as you say it, you’ll write when you’ll have something to say, depending on many criteria, you know best known. I’ll respond.

Sensitive Friend,

I find difficult to respond to a message stating what I said as cryptic.
Now I have to respond in a language not used to speak enough. Given my current vocabulary in that language, I would have more success with a puppy: “Sit, lay down, come, go.” Sometimes, I wonder if I still remember the correct meaning of some words and if changed over the years since I wasn’t back in that country for decades.
Add to that the surprise I had a few years ago when I found out I had the wrong understanding of some words while living there. What I was saying differed from what people heard and therefore understood.
I’ll risk it, and hopefully, I get the correct gist of some words I’m about to use in this email. People around here would call what I read and what I hear “take it at face value.”
Your message made me reach the phone, instinctively. Was it because of the desire to be there? Your analogy would imply that.
You’re correct when you mention the weight of putting your hand on somebody’s arm. Maybe it’s more than that. However, it’s difficult to be sure while talking on the phone. I have a strong wish to be in the same room or walk by the sea, in silence. There would be no need to touch the arm. The re-assurance would suffice. Re-assurance for what?
Once, I had two close, supportive friendships in this city, one with a man, the other with a woman. We called each other and went for a walk while uttering not one word. We might have started talking an hour later. It was soul cleansing, and the peaceful sensation of support accompanied both of us.

Wise Friend,

I say many things.
First, with all your wary you declare related to the deciphering my words, I’m sure you understand as very well, always, even if sometimes is convenient to hide behind this argument.
Anyway, this time you’ve deciphered me perfectly.
I assume it’s difficult to express yourself clearly in this language, due to the lack of using it for decades.
You threatened me you would write in English though I noticed you don’t dare (maybe it feels unnatural). Do as it’s easier for you.
Otherwise, I respect your care for the importance of using adequate words. Myself, I don’t throw them around, and I try to use them responsibly.
When it comes to your answer, I remark you chose not to use any of the options I advanced in my prior message relate to a possible response from you, and I now respond to that–uff!! what a complicated statement, though I won’t redo it.
To my delight, you chose, to react differently, thinking about what I said. If I manage to convey the warmth that escorts my thoughts when I write, the rest matters less. I don’t know why you use the qualifications of “cryptic”. Sometimes, analogies enter my mind, as it happens to you as well, and I use them primarily to make the infallible more perceptible.
The mind flies, it’s good; it’s bad. God knows…
I propose to myself always to express only thoughts which are banal and “innocent” about the daily life. However, only words of no value come out–cheap talk of 3 cents.

 

Wise Friend,

How is the world of art doing?

Sensitive Friend,

Years ago, I went to an art exhibition from Akhenaten times – “Pharaoh of Gods”..

Pharaoh Akhenaten (Nefertiti was his wife, Tutankhamen, his son) created a new religion, to move away from worshipping animals towards monotheism.

He changed his people’s religion to sun worship, seen at the time as an intangible object, abstract–as one God. He didn’t acknowledge Osiris, the deity of death.

The Egyptian art of that time focused on the centrality of the family in their society,  renouncing the god(s) of death.

After Akhenaten’s death, people reneged this religion, perceiving it as too abstract and a faith which gave up on so many of the celebrations available before.

On display, I saw a pair of cartouches used as objects of worship with inscriptions reflecting Pharaoh’s thoughts, if I’m correct. They looked so similar to the Jewish 10 Commandment plates.

Wise Friend,

Trivia we might forget?

Sensitive Friend

History of thoughts, worldviews, of religions in the making?

One abstract god, moving away from worshipping animals and the god of death, celebrating the love of the family, using inscriptions on a pair of cartouches as pieces of worship.

Sweet Friend,

You wrote you dated a few times and how frustrating it is to feel scrutinised.

Wise Friend,

The men I meet think I’m the one under scrutiny. They don’t know they are under my scrutiny. I didn’t come so far away from home, to stop scrutinising.

Sweet Friend,

I was thinking about the word you used. I know what you mean, though I hope you enjoyed the dates to some extent.

Wise Friend.

What should one do? Take a risk? How else? Be cautious? How else? Go with the flow? How else? Be gullible? How else? Be trustful? How else?

Sweet Friend,

You went there, faraway, to find a husband. Do they want to become husbands more then they want here? How far do you need to go before you can approach the subject even if only as a light, rushed joke?

Wise Friend,

It’s become a “shame on you” to want to know this too soon. A wish that needs to be in secret. A desire to be denied, minimised, and about which to joke. Once upon a time, becoming a husband was a sign of pride in oneself. Not anymore.

Sweet Friend,

What? Do you ask him on the first date?

Wise Friend,

When I feel like “Heck with it?”

Sweet Friend,

How did they react? I would love to be at the next table. Did you see any of them again? Risky filtering I might say. Is it funny?

Wise Friend,

Haha! Ah, it brings me a sense of relief.

Sweet Friend,

My mind is blank. I have no answers for you. Still, I can’t hold back to tell you to enjoy meeting people. Find out about their life and likes. Delight in their little surprises. The rules changed many decades ago. Somehow, still, they need to be relearned again and again.

Shush! Don’t bring it up too soon! You might filter the good ones. Also, sometimes “Heck with it!” Seek their happy side. If he’s moody, say “good-bye!”

Sensitive Friend,

I used to speak six languages: none of them perfect, ever. Three have disappeared, not wholly, almost gone. I can order a sandwich and maybe listen to get what you mean – to some point. Therefore, I love when people correct me in either of my top three languages: humor, gentleness help.

Sometimes I use words, confident that I’m clear. Later I see, from the reaction of the other, that I used an improper word. I mean inappropriate: it’s either a bit too sexy in that part of the world or hurting feelings in another. In my mind, the word or expression is clear, soft and caring.

So I ask you to help me, and your response is to stay with the initial wording, as you understand what I meant and also you enjoy the mishap. You prefer me not to correct anything as thus I would deviate into being too correct with the words I use. How am I going to win the battle of languages and of a brain that insists on grasping a language at a maximum of 83.66%-95.21%?

So here it is: I used “the importance given to this subject is not suitable to…”. I’m asking you: Shall I use “undeserved importance”?

Wise Friend,

No, because when you use the new word, it brings in a falsity, which denigrates and makes the core of your idea unnatural. Then, I get confused, and I lose what you’re referring to, and then I wonder why you mention whatever new thing might show up.

Maybe you thought about the word “forbidden,” but this is debatable as well.

Wise Friend,

Years ago you wrote: “We communicate only via writing or phone, which makes us feel good most of the times. However, sometimes it hurts when either of us or both feel frustrated. Also, we have to deal with a lack of continuity and with the question of how honest we could be within these kinds of communication.”

On the one hand, either of us or both of us could choose what would more comfortable and leave aside real confrontations; this would be cowardice, isn’t it (on my behalf)?

Sensitive Friend,

When two people love being around each other, they can talk about French fries and enjoy each other.

Wise Friend,

On the other hand, you seem to imply, which I find acceptable, that this is not good for you and the communication would become sterile. Had we choose to dive deeper into some specific question you might raise, into an impression of mine that I suddenly saw a little light in a corner I never noticed.

You have integrity, while at the same time you move around from topic to topic with so much agility; you might start an idea, and suddenly you change your mind.

Sometimes I ask you something specific, I need your answer, and you move on to another subject, and we go on from there.

It’s OK for me, but we deviate from the flow. There is something else in this complex communication: my topics are not easy to address, and I’m not always clear. I never know how my subjects touch you, given the context of your thoughts and your disposition at the very moment when you open my email or when we talk over the phone.

It forces me to restrain myself and to weigh much too much every word I write or say. You turn, now.

Sensitive Friend,

Starting with an idea and moving to another subject was not a sign of agility. At that time, I lacked the discipline to stay with the topic at hand.

I wanted to speak about everything that might have tangentially touched the subject, or I thought about in the absence of our communication. I’ve improved a lot, and I get so much more satisfaction when staying with the topic discussed until clear. Now, I notice as others change the subject and I don’t enjoy it, at all.

I wonder what I answered at the time of our interaction.

 

Dearest Friend,

Delauney’s painting – Sometimes I look at it, and it seems as agitated as our souls right now. A few minutes later, I look again, and I see peace and quiet, but with energy and fire. Somehow it represents us: while it scares me, it calms me as well, and it gives me joy, too. Be happy; it’s your birthday.

Delauney

Wise Friend,

I’m so far. I wish I would be able to touch you so slightly, so lightly. Happy birthday and many happy returns – please laugh a lot with your beautiful laughter.

You brought me a fantastic year. I wish you goodness and a comfortable life, and to never regret that gift so loaded, so pregnant. Whatever has happened, our love, may it be a sign of only good things to come to you.

Dearest Friend,

Now, don’t blame me. What possibilities, do you think that could have crossed my mind back then? After two years, I left him. I was nine years younger than you, and I was so immature.

How was it possible that I was there for those years, and we didn’t ‘know’ each one about the other and each one for the other? Has life toyed with us, like a joke? What did it want from us to prove?

That we’re two people kind and caring? I have no idea if I would have reacted to your signs. I responded to the warmth in your voice, at sunset, looking both of us over that valley I love. I acted, not as an adult, but as a little child to whom somebody finally told how valuable might be.

Wise Friend,

Maybe if you had persisted, I would have been intoxicated. It’s your fault you moved me too late and too fast. I left that place, the beloved country, with your words in my soul, with the warmth of your voice, feeling to some extent the attraction you had felt, not more than that.

You say you kept pushing the gas pedal, knowingly that the engine was not on. Suddenly the engine started, and we forgot reason. I, like you, had not imagined this was possible, even if deep down maybe I, like you, knew it was.

Why not, if we knew this is what we wanted, then why no other person who wanted the same showed up?

Wise Friend,

Inner peace is inner, and only we can give it to us. How? Sometimes, I think that I found the formula. Later I wake up to the fact that I forgot to apply it. However, so much depends on us and our attitude.

Dearest Friend,

It wasn’t about carrying a stone within my heart. I’m able to carry heart stones. It was about, what you believed, and what I thought that you understood. I couldn’t let it happen between us. At least for now.

Wise Friend,

Now, there are two people inside me. I live with the feeling that I’m hiding something from you, but we have no choice. I’m afraid that you won’t like any longer the person I’m now.

I clench my teeth and continue with what we started, as it’s decent, or maybe it’s a must, or it’s just wise; this is called “looking after myself.”

I’m obsessed with the thought that, by being quiet, I lie to you, I let you believe something else. I’m not at peace; I don’t want to lose you. I tell my self I don’t have you anyway, such was life; this is what you decided. Later, I say myself that we both decided; then I’m too tired, I give up for a few days to look after the other person within me…

We’re not yet used to not connecting for two weeks. Later music follows, I go to a play, a show, a museum, walking, or I drive for a more extended stretch or maybe just that time arrived again to feel torn between the two people inside me.

Dearest Friend,

I know what you say. With whom are you comparing these group of people? They are not perfect, but overall they behave like good strong, kind, and reliable people. It’s so incredible that the others look at them, at their history and what they’ve achieved and continuously demonise them. Did they ever err? Certainly, they did! Like whom would they be? Please show me the group.

Wise Friend,

There is a toddler in my life. I miss her. I miss putting my head on the back of her neck and hear her laughter.

When she was here, visiting, I looked after her for a few hours. We played together. She showed me what to press on her toys, pressing my hand to push.

Her parents went out. She wasn’t crying, though very quiet and sad. Then she fell asleep in my arms.