I finished reading Cheryl Strayed’s Tiny Beautiful Things. I was on my stomach, on a blanket in the sunlight. It was one of those books that I didn’t want to end. I had to savor it over a few months for fear it would end too soon. Does that say a lot about my life?
I decided today that this week I would learn the Cups song. I decided I would learn how to handstand in the middle of the room, which I also decided every year for the past three years. I decided I would learn how to braid my hair. I thought about the hike up Salkantay, when my friend braided my hair for me on the 3rd day without showering. I thought about sleeping bags. I thought about my knee injury. I thought about making decisions out of fear and how it compares to making decisions out of exhilaration. I thought about Phil’s words, that when you come away from being with someone and you feel lighter, that is how you know it’s meant to be. I thought about this morning, how an incredible thing happened. We walked to get breakfast and The Temptations were playing. Then a merengue song. Then another motown song. Then Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody. And my coworker said, you look so pretty today. And I said, no, I don’t look different, I just decided on happiness today.
I realized again that we all have ghosts. I decided to talk with one of mine.
Husserl’s Theoretical Horizon, or a Ghost Is a House You Live in
C. Dylan Bassett
Ghosts do not happen alone. Ghosts are made
from rooms and glass and cherry trees. They lie down and become
horizons. You see by them.
Some ghosts want to undo you, to take you apart.
They crawl in cupboards and bang against the wood.
They rearrange furniture and hide
your good shoe. You cannot fight them, you do
not know their names. Other ghosts want
to hold you together, to bake your favorite lemon cookies
in the middle of the night and climb in bed with you
and comb your hair with their glassy fingers.
You hate these ghosts most of all.
You know their names exactly.