Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Surfing the Nut House


It was my sisters idea to drive to the nut house. She said I would like it. It would remind me of my childhood. I had recently suffered an emotional trauma and ran from any potential conflict. I steadied myself and agreed to go. We got in my sisters comfortable car and drove West. The Earth turns toward us and I make believe that the car is stationary and the Earth is rushing under our wheels. I rest my head against the passenger window and again mentally run through my failures. I did, I didn't, I couldn't. They did, they didn't, they wouldn't. I watched the fence posts rush past me at a regular interval. I poured the bitterness out of my head and concentrated on my breathing. My heartbeat slowed to the rhythm of the passing fence posts. They looked like the blips on an EKG.


The car slowed to a stop at an intersection. Beside us was a roadside memorial decorated with flowers and crosses. A little boy in a baseball uniform turned to me as the car was pulling away. He raised a popsicle in the air and with a grin stuck out his popsicle red tongue. I closed my eyes. I could taste that sweet red juice as it ran down my chin. I remembered how Mom use to make those for us. I wondered why the little boy was at the memorial. Why did it seem important. I make believe I can feel the Earth flying through space. It's the feeling of reaching the highest point on a playground swing and just as you start falling backward you are weightless. I feel it in my stomach and down my spine. I hold, I hold it as long as I can.


I hear the crunch of gravel as we pull into the nut house. The lot is full with many visitors. I exit the car slowly and appraise the building. It's old and rough cut, barn red and ramshackle. The handpainted sign over the entrance says Somis Nut House. There is something about it that makes me smile. There is a warm energy that surrounds this space. We walk inside and it's quiet like a church. There are roughcut beams overhead and bolted together racks filled with nuts and candies, many that I remember from childhood. Abba-Zaba's and Bazooka Bubble Gum, Chick O Sticks! I drift through the racks and my childhood memories, one overlapping the other. I remember the little girl I liked in school and my friends at the public pool. I remember my dog as I see a curved red tail wagging behind a counter. I feel small hands hugging my leg, gentle as a ghost but it's only my imaginings. My sister calls me over to show me a found treasure, something we both laugh about. A little girl walks past with her face tilted to mine. She is maybe 5 and has the most astonished reaction when I say Hello. She squeals with delight and clasps her hands to her face, then runs between the racks. I turn to my sister to see her reaction but her view was elsewhere. She asks if I like this place but I know she is really asking if I feel its calm and its warmth. I nod yes. I add this feeling to that of the swing. The warmth and the letting go. I empty myself of lifes constricting vibrations and hold the feeling. I wrap my arms around it and press it to my chest and feel it enter me and fill me. I'm warm and falling into calm.


I open my eyes and see the little girl. She holds a soft glow. A dog trots up to her and and sits to her left always keeping his eyes on mine. His eyes hold a question and a reward for its answer. The little girl lifts his floppy ear and whispers, "Yes, he can see us." I immediately know this dog, he was my dog and until this moment I didn't know how much I'd missed him. Tears spring from my eyes as I bend to pet him. The little girl puts her hand on my arm for comfort and says, "Only joy." At her touch I know she is my Grandmother, my loving Grandmother as I have never know her. She says, "Look, we are here." I see all those I had lost, all as children, laughing and teasing. The earth tilts under my feet and I feel a rushing in my head. She points to a mirror and I see myself as a little boy in a baseball uniform, the same little boy I saw from the car. But I'm still alive I think, and the little girl says, "Yes, you are alive, we are all alive in the All." I see a little boy and girl and know them to be my parents. They stand apart until the little girl approaches the boy. She punches him in shoulder and all their divisions evaporate with giggles. They hold each others hands and run off laughing. The little girl that is my Grandmother reaches out and gently holds my face.


We fly out into space and I see the all of the Milky Way. It's gigantic arms slowly spin as it travels through space. I feel my arms open wide. We feel the orbit of our Earth and feel its rotation. She shows me the little boy that I was in my baseball uniform spinning in the outfield with no worry for the ball. I was, and am, and will be that boy, I promise.



June 17th 2014