When I am looking for more Twitter followers, I post a saying that Buddha said. Usually this is in the form of a neat image with some sort of flashy picture with a saying superimposed on top: Buddha says, "Be cool." Buddha says, "Start being who you want to be today and release the past." Buddha says, "Get over your anger." One great thing about posting this sort of thing to Twitter is an instant increase in followers. Another, (and actually the real reason), is that all of these pithy sayings actually make sense. You should, indeed, let it go. You can only lose that which you cling to. You shouldn't believe everything you read. Including this. I figure if I post these things I will remind myself what I need to think about. I will connect with people who also want to remind themselves. There is nothing at all negative about it. My daughter (who is college-age and a bit of a cynic) calls me a "Namaste Hipster." That's okay. Namaste as a concept is something to aspire to, and certainly being a hipster gives me some level of street cred, even if it's only with myself. That's something.
But, I am blowing smoke. This isn't what I am here to write about today. I am writing today to talk about how social media is just a tiny keyhole into our real lives. That sometimes we post, thinking that people will see what we are posting, and "get" something we wish we could say to them, perhaps some information we want them to have about us. Something to improve their image of us, or to ensure them that we are fine without them, or let them know that we are missing them, or a myriad of other reasons.
The problem is, how the heck do you really know if they are stalking your social media on the level needed to grasp your veiled meanings? And like everything in text, veiled meanings and deep subtext are just rife with the possibility for misunderstanding.
I have a family member from whom I am estranged. That's an ugly sentence. It means that the relationship is so broken down, so damaged, so negative, that we have walked completely away from knowing each other. The person that I am estranged from has been, in the course of my life, a very important person to me. One of the people I counted as the inner circle, a friend of my heart. Until.
Until the break. Breaking off a love relationship--even a platonic, family relationship, is a serious thing. It is something you think about every single day. But as each day passes, the idea that you can just pick up the phone becomes more remote. The passing of time makes the gulfs between people wider and more complicated. Anger and pain seem to be more willing co-conspirators than peace and acceptance. People get cloaked and choked in their own stuff.
And sometimes you really do have to make a break for it. The person in your life is truly hurting you. They have made it clear they don't respect your life choices, they have has mocked what you love, and made it clear that they hate you more than they love you. You can't build a relationship out of someone's hate and disrespect and anger. You can't build anything. The best you can do is walk away praying that some day they will get it. That they will wake up on some imagined morning of the future and say, "Oh, my God, I was wrong. I need to call and say that I love and accept this person."
But that doesn't happen. People don't do that. People don't stay and work on it. People don't try to make amends, they don't try to see the value in those with whom they are estranged. The problem with estrangement is it becomes so self-aware and uncomfortable. The leap to communication is across a huge gulf, filled with hatred. A soul-sucking, defeating, soup of disrespect. Who wants to take a pole vault and try to make it over that?
Estrangement has another bedfellow. Time. Time and estrangement are in it together. They are in cahoots. Anger makes people forget to check their watches. To check their calendars. To check reality. And time is a thief. Time takes your hand and kisses you gently on the lips and then tosses your unsuspecting ass off a cliff. Just like that. Just like that.
Have you ever been so pissed at someone you want to write explicit instructions preventing them from attending your funeral?
Funeral notes: A live band with people singing songs I have written, a full dance floor. A seafood bar and a martini fountain. A slide show of my theatrical hits. A case with my Tonys displayed. A bouncer at the door to prevent (insert offending name here) from attending.
Anger makes some pretty elaborate plans. Love isn't so organized. Love says, "Come on. Whatever. Just be kind." Love says, "I forgive you. I know you didn't mean it. I know you have your issues as I have mine."
Anger gets bouncers. Love gives hugs.
Life is so very short. Life is a wisp of smoke, a flower that blossoms briefly and wilts, a shining brief instant, a falling star. Lovers and friends and siblings and children, and people who should love each other but have replaced their love with anger should consider taking heed.
Anger throws a casual arm around your shoulder and says, " You have plenty of time. You have pressing concerns! You have to work. You have to produce. You have bills to pay. You don't have time for people's emotional baggage."
Love knows you don't have time. And the time you do have is never going to be enough. You will never have enough time to hold the hand of someone you love. You will never have enough time for those side-splitting laughs. You will never have enough time to raise your voice in greeting, in excitement, in happiness, and in song.
So make the call.
Answer the email.
Book the flight.
Show up for coffee.
And, for everyone's sake, jump across the table and the scary gulf of hate and fear and clench people in those bear hugs that we all love to receive.
Get over the fear. Life is remembered by the moments of love and connection we share with other living beings. Nothing more. Even the greatest art is really only mass connection. Everything that we love and share is about connection.
So, here is my paragraphs-long Buddha post. Except I am the Buddha today. I am a living representation of spirit and as such I claim my higher self and speak those words to the people who need to hear them the most.
Everyone I love--let me take this time to tell you how I love you. How I remember our friendship and our childhoods and our moments of laughter and our deep conversations. Let me tell you I am honored and grateful for the things we have shared. I am grateful for the days on the beach and the glasses we clinked. The moments of recognition. The warm hugs. The happy hellos. The emotional reunions. I am grateful for the jubilation. I am grateful for the understanding. I am grateful.
And to me: Take your own advice. Just try.
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