The Write Thing

I think I have come at that crossroads in life where I should stop, look back, and make a list of the learning experience so far. What have I learned in this journey?

I have learned to wait patiently, without thinking of a future, as I realize now more than ever that the present time is all we have. I have learned to listen beyond the mere surface of words. People do not always say what they mean, or mean what they say, and they seldom recognize the difference. I have learned to neglect my instinct, preferring to dive into a wild ocean than look at it from a safe distance. Untimely bravery has cost me more tears, but most of the time it has been worth it. I have learned to believe good things are possible, even when they do not last, for reasons that escape me. I have learned to love myself a little more, and that has allowed me to love others for what they are instead of what I would like them to be. However, I have also learned that love is a relative term universally overstated into an absolute goal we should all aim for. It is this paradox that feeds most romantic literature, and who would not want to have (or be) a young Werther at some point? I have learned that suffering is not an enhancer or a leveler, but sometimes it can be a dysfunction that elicits a crippling self-pity. I have learned that trust is not a given, even if for me it is a must. Trust should be earned, and working for it is a rewarding task if the objective is reached. I have learned that life is made of uncertainty, and yet we plan around it as if time were granted to us without question.

I am full of doubt, hence I exist. I have not learned anything yet, but I may have understood. I must go on.

Two weekends in a row of birthday parties. First, that of a dead man whose work is universally acknowledged among the greatest in world literature. Barrio Norte, Buenos Aires. Selected crowd of guests, some of them rather prominent. My role was to accompany someone else, which is rather interesting when the milieu is foreign. It helps to create impressions and, I must confess, I sometimes can thrive on that. It is external passivity taken to the most active internalization of surroundings, people, manners, behaviors and — of course — food.

I like these gatherings where people really do not have a purpose to be there, but they are. Some were there to celebrate l’anniversaire de l’absent whereas most simply wanted to pay due homage to the hostess and continue to be in her radar. A song starts to play as the party draws to a close and the moment to cut the cake arrives: Pink Floyd’s The Wall. The man apparently liked it a lot, once more confirming — as if it were necessary — how simple literary genius can sometimes be. White cake, white frosting with a touch of coconut and dulce de leche, really good, even while I did not have any, only indulged in watching my valkyrie eat her small piece. And off we went, having mingled with a variety of characters that ranged from the most ridiculous to the most interesting (the last group, unfortunately, was rather scanty). The hostess preserves the tradition and the memory of her love for that man unblemished. He probably would have enjoyed the irony of death as he was being wined and dined in absentia.

The weekend after. Las Cañitas, my own birthday. I went through the details, the organization, and enjoyed it, for the first time in my life. I recognize my own behavior as a sign of growth. People I love and cherish, people whose friendship I value with a certainty that only deep feelings can award, were there to laugh and cheer as the day progressed into the shadow of its own cyclical renaissance, leaving me with a new definitive number from which I should be drawing a life for the next 365 days of my existence. I have plans, I am being born again into and out of myself. First inside, where it all lies. Then outside, to enjoy the world, breathe life into a wiser soul and thank the mystery of existence for shining some light along the way, and bringing her to me in her splendor. It really feels like happiness.