"Losing your marbles was an expression pleasing to Spooner's ear from the first time he heard it...He knew from experience that it could be disorienting, walking around without your ordinary number of marbles and trying to put your finger on where you lost the ones that were missing." - Pete Dexter, SPOONER
I've been reading this fabulous book by Pete Dexter. It makes me laugh out loud and then it makes me cry. And all of it makes me think. When I read the above portion last week, it was one of those gifts that come along just when you need it. I definitely feel like I'm losing my marbles. And not just my marbles. I'm losing people, losing touch, losing sight of the positive, losing the battle, losing....
My best friend looked at me this morning and immediately knew I was sad. Not the deep scary sad I used to get, but definitely sad. And I can't tell you why. There are half a dozen good reasons for me to be sad.
My mother died and things were never resolved between us. But they never were going to be - and I accepted that a long time ago.
My best friend's father is dying, slowly and painfully and she's going through hell watching it and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.
People are going to lose their jobs at my work. It's unavoidable. But there's no other way to keep the doors open for business.
My daughter lives too far away. I know we talk and write and all is good there - I'm not losing her. But I just want to hug her.
The world seems to have lost it's marbles too. There's a backlash of anti-intellectualism that has people leaping and reacting emotionally to any change while at the same time screaming that things can't keep going this way.
Mother nature is totally pissed off.
And I just can't get a good night's sleep anymore.
And then there's this empty place inside me - this hole - that is always there and always empty. I've tried to fill it with love and sex and food and attention and obsession and regret and guilt and shame. But no matter what I do, it's always there. I know I was made this way for a reason. At least I hope there's a reason for it all.
So maybe the answer is to just accept the emptiness. Not to worry about the hole. Not to mind what's missing. To feel sad and mourn and weep and let go. Not get so attached to any outcome, good or bad, that I am unable to embrace what is. Just don't worry about the marbles.
"The key, therefore, from early on, had been not to get so attached to your marbles that you would miss a few if they escaped."