BELIEVE WHAT YOU WILL
December 15 2014
n.b. sorry for the delay in posting this...we just got internet connection back today, after an absence of 5 days!
A week ago today I spent contemplating the alignment of my teeth and mortality…the teeth may leave sooner than the rest of me! However the gift of the day was being interviewed for a documentary on mortality.
During the interview I discovered that I wrote my recent novel not only because mortality is daily with me, and so if not now, when, but also because I wanted to provoke readers into questioning their own beliefs; where do they come from, what purpose do they serve?
I told the filmmaker that I thought we humans have a need to come up with a belief in order to make life bearable and that we make up a story in order to make death less terrifying. The belief I hold is that the power of goodness is greater than the power of evil. By that I mean that compared to the enormous crap pile of negativity currently at large in our world, goodness is relatively small, yet so far the practice of kindness, honesty, humility, generosity and compassion by so few is nonetheless enough to keep our planet on its axis. I said that I believe this energy creates a positive circle around the planet, a circle of energy that we can both contribute to and partake of as necessary. This belief keeps me going on dark days when the overwhelming news of wars, famine, disease and greed are enough to bring me to my knees.
The story that I’ve come up with to make death less terrifying is that I will become part of that spirit world encircling the globe; an invisible energy capable of comforting those yet to be born. Much like the angels in Wim Wenders film “Wings of Desire” were privy to the sorrows of mankind, descending here and there to pat a shoulder or stroke a brow.
I’m not actually afraid of dying, although I’d rather not. But like all human beings my ego has a real hard time accepting that I will, sooner or later, cease to be. So I’ve decided that the electrical energy of which I am composed will continue to exist much as energy continues to exist when you turn off the switch to your overhead lamp; the light goes out but the energy remains.
I am sitting now in my fireside cantuccio (nook) back in Tuscany, watching the light of day disappear. In the foreground, the garden gate and steps descending to the front arbor are in shadow, whereas in the distance, the sky is illuminated in peach and aqua. This is our first December in the house, and already we have discovered that the play of winter light penetrates the interior, illuminating the mystery within the ordinary; the reflection of a coat hook hovering on the wall like a ghostly spaceship; the rays of winter’s sun low enough to dazzle golden our studio floor; the gleam of sunbeam on the kitchen shelves licking the dishes with a glare of polished silver.
Yesterday afternoon we placed a bench against the stone wall of the house and, bathed in sunlight, listened to the silence. Of course, it wasn’t silent…it only seemed so after 3 weeks of living in New York where the constant cacophony of helicopters, horns and sirens sullied every moment. We held hands, speechless, yet aware of being on the same wavelength, and listened to the sleepy buzz of a late season bumble- bee.
