Meditation Work: The Wanted
Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Third Degree of Truth.
One Full Â Moon Â cycle Â has Â passed Â since Â my Â last visit to my â€œmetaphysicalâ€ Â home. Itâ€™s not as busy as be-fore, yet there are people enough wandering through, visiting, saying hello. Some of them seem to be â€œon tourâ€ of my subconscious Â inner structures.Â Have I become a side show attraction?
He grins, says hello, wanders off with a six-string guitar slung over his shoulder. I donâ€™t follow. I keep working at what Iâ€™m doing-decorating my home to get it just so. Heâ€™s very welcome to wander around my Â subconscious. Thereâ€™s little or nothing here that I wouldnâ€™t share with him, Â and Lord knows, Iâ€™ve shared things with him Iâ€™ve never told another soul.
Iâ€™m still rearranging pillows when he returns with several people, including my girls. He sits in the chair I associate with my mother-a nurturing spot for me, and I sup- pose I need a little nurturing right now. Aislinn asks for a guitar Â lesson Â and Â they Â joke Â around Â about Â playing Â the blues-and thatâ€™s what he begins playing.
I finish up my decorating and then continue to listen to his music as I examine old treasures in a cabinet, looking over things I havenâ€™t Â thought of in a long time, not realizing many were even there, culling what I donâ€™t need to make room for new treasures. Meanwhile,Â he continues to play the blues without a heavy heart. Heâ€™s content to be here in this place of mine. Safe. Home-y. Full of my stuff. Heâ€™s playing the Â blues and playing at the blues, a sort of obscure joke between the two of us because of all the bad times weâ€™ve seen and come through.
I continue to redecorate my life and reorder the trappings of my home. He watches me, plays and watches me and Â talks Â nervously Â about Â meaningless Â things Â but Â in Â a tone thatâ€™s full of meaning. Â We canâ€™t really talk with so many people around, and Iâ€™m mostly quiet and reserved.
Shannon suggests everyone there go with her to see something she Â has to show them, but I know sheâ€™s just trying to orchestrate Â a scenario. Â And suddenly, Â itâ€™s just him and me. He stayed.
Iâ€™m done Â decorating Â but Â I donâ€™t Â sit down. Â I tinker with my decorations. Â He plays the guitar and talks but this time, Â unlike Â so many Â other timesÂ in these meditations, Iâ€™m the one who doesnâ€™t know what to say. I make small talk but itâ€™s hollow and Iâ€™m not sure what to do or say next. I donâ€™t really understand what heâ€™s offering me, even though Iâ€™m enjoying his joyous version of the blues and the tough times are behind both him and me and itâ€™s definitely time for us to celebrate soon.
I guess maybe itâ€™s his turn to give me words instead of music.